Auguries of Innocence
by LeglessJedi
Summary: Sequel to She Was a Phantom of Delight. Jack and Camille find out that the treasure from The Rune was, in fact, cursed after all. New characters added. Rated for sexual content and violence.
1. The Salley Gardens

A/N: Hi! I wrote a sequel! Well, am in the process of, I should say. I'm only about 40 pages into it. But its prequel is called "She Was A Phantom of Delight" for those of you who haven't read it. Please review. Thank you all so much.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from POTC. The title of this story is a poem by William Blake, who is one of my favorite authors. The title of the chapter is a poem, or a ballad I think, by William Butler Yeats. Also, this really shouldn't be rated M, but I did just so I wouldn't get in trouble because everyone thinks sex is so naughty.

_**AUGURIES OF INNOCENCE**_

**Chapter 1: Down by the Salley Gardens**

There was nothing like drunken sex with Captain Jack Sparrow. Camille woke up with a massive hangover, stumbling out of bed and dragging some of the sheets with her. She tossed them back onto the naked captain and stretched, holding her hands high above her head.

Thank goodness her mansion was so big, and she and Jack got this wing of the house entirely to themselves. They had been known to be quite loud when things got out of hand. She began snooping about in the closet for something to wear, still completely nude.

She groaned as her headache and nausea remained constant through her primping. As she was untangling some of her hair, there was a light knock on the door. "Come in," she called.

Will Turner poked his head in, glancing at Jack's unconscious figure and trying not to breathe in too deeply. The room reeked of sex. "Are you nearly ready, Camille?" he said in a normal tone. Jack could sleep through anything when he was drunk.

"Just a moment, I'm almost finished," she said, shooing him away. They wouldn't have much time until Jack figured out that the two of them plus Ana Maria had gone missing from the house. Camille finished doing her hair, stumbled over a few more things to get her shoes, hat, and parasol, and was downstairs. She looked like a lady but cursed ugly words under her breath like a sailor would.

Ana Maria looked up at her. "Is he still asleep?" she asked, referring to Jack.

Camille covered her ears, grimacing slightly at the noise. "Yes," she whined. "Let's hurry, shall we? I've got to go back to sleep."

Will looked at her, getting his coat. "Are you certain you want to do this today, Camille?" he offered.

"It's now or never," she replied miserably, following him out the door with Ana behind her. Although her head ached, her heart had been aching much more lately. Jack was brooding over the loss of his ship, and he had been drinking more and more. Shortly after returning from Diablo's gate nearly a year ago, Jack had confessed his love for Camille. He was truly terrible at opening up to anyone, including her, but he genuinely cared for her. He never talked about _The Black Pearl_, and if mentioned the air in the room would suddenly grow cold and all eyes would see him walking away. It physically hurt him to be away from the sea this long, but given the circumstances there was nowhere else for him to go with his crew scattered, and most likely extinct by now. Hopefully this would pull him out of his deepening depression.

Camille blinked, walking out into the sunlight. She tried to focus her thoughts, remembering what she was going to say as the stagecoach pulled up. The ride did not settle her stomach, and by the time they arrived in Port Royale she needed a minute or two before climbing out. She took a couple of deep breaths, looking at the door to the building she was about to enter.

She turned to Will and Ana Maria. "You know what to do. And if worse comes to worse, just remember that a ship can be sailed with only two people."

They both nodded as the coach pulled away. She steadied her uneasy stride, still being very unused to wearing high heeled-shoes. She straightened her hair and made sure to adjust her dress so that it showed a bit more cleavage than it was meant to. This was it.

She gracefully (although Lord knows how) made her way inside. She smiled as Commodore Norrington greeted her politely. She curtseyed, following him to his office.

"Commodore, I must apologize for giving you such short notice," she said as he gestured for her to take a seat.

"Oh, nonsense Miss Quartermaine," he said, taking a seat. "How may I be of service?"

"Well, just the other day I was looking over my father's will," she said, producing it. "And I noticed that he left me a ship. But I'm afraid I don't know much more than that, especially about sailing or ships."

She had set the plan in motion. The Commodore was more than happy to explain to Camille about the different kinds of ships, and about what she would need to know if she were to have one built. Most of these things she already knew, but every once in awhile he would stumble across something that she didn't. So this little 'meeting' had been somewhat beneficial to her after all.

Meanwhile, of course, _The Black Pearl_ was being retaken by Ana Maria, Will, and other members of the crew as the soldiers were being locked in the cells. They had strategically hidden the ship a few miles off the coast of Port Celebros, where it was anchored in the safety of the many small and uninhabited islands there.

After she had asked all of the questions she could possibly think of, Camille politely thanked the commodore and he saw her to a stagecoach. It would not be long now until Norrington noticed that almost the entire navy was not present by the fort.

Concealing a grin, Camille ascended the path toward her mansion. The children were playing in the yard, and Annie was fluttering about dusting. Ana Maria sat, reading as if absolutely nothing had happened that morning. She looked up at Camille lazily as she came into the house. "Mornin', Camille. Finish your shopping?"

"Yes, I did," Camille replied, smiling at Annie. "Is Jack still sleeping?"

Ana shrugged. "I would expect just as well. He's been drinking like a fish lately."

Camille sighed. "I know," she admitted, ascending the stairs. She wondered what she would say to wake him up. It was nearly noon now, and she regrettably kicked the door hard, almost forcing it off its hinges. She hated to have to be the one to straighten him out. But the bed was empty. It was not made, but the rest of the room was clean and not littered with empty bottles.

She made her way to the windows, drawing back the curtains and letting the light fall on the dark place. She blinked as the sun hit her in the face, reaching up to open the window. Jack was outside, playing with Peter and Sheila below. He and Peter were both swordfighting with small wooden swords, and she let her jaw drop in surprise. The man never failed to amaze her. Sheila, of course, was screaming about something and running all around. But the boys seemed to be enjoying themselves and she grinned.


	2. To Morning

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is a poem by William Blake.

Chapter 2: To Morning

She rushed downstairs and outside, slowing down as she got closer. Jack's back was to her, and he seemed to be losing a battle to young Peter as Sheila looked on, holding her hands behind her back against a tree. She was yelling, cheering Jack on against the evil Pilfering Pete. She saw Camille and was about to cry out, but Camille put her finger to her lips and got behind the tree.

"Hurry up and untie me, we've got to escape off the ship," Sheila whispered.

Camille nodded. "All right. We'll take the captain's lifeboat."

But they were overheard by the two dueling pirates. Jack turned around and feigned surprise at seeing the redhead. "Aha, a stowaway! I knew it!" he said, putting the fake sword up to Camille's throat.

She gasped. "Oh please Captain, don't hurt me," she begged.

He cocked an eyebrow, and she hoped that he would keep this clean for the sake of the children. He shook his head. "I'm afraid I must, love. You have interfered with the fight between me and my sworn enemy. For that, there is only one penalty. You will walk the plank."

"But, Captain-" she began.

"Silence! Now, walk!" he commanded, pushing her backwards.

But Peter poked Jack in the back with his wooden sword. "Not so fast, Sparrow. Miss Quartermaine goes free," he said boldly.

Jack turned around slowly. "I should've known," he said, narrowing his eyes. "In league with her, it all makes sense now. But you'll never get the map from me, Pete. I'll carry it to the bottom of the ocean with me."

"Peter, Sheila!" Annie's voice called. They both took off, running across the large yard.

"Peter, don't run with a sword!" Camille called after him. She squeaked as Jack lifted her up and spun her around. "Good morning, Captain," she said before kissing him.

"Mornin', love," he said before gently setting her down.

"I'm so glad to see that you're in a good mood," she said, burying her face in his dreadlocks.

He held her in his arms, not afraid of who might see them. "Of course I'm in a good mood, what reason do I have not to be?"

She swooned, taking in the smoky smell that his jacket had, even though she had rarely seen him around smoke. Seeing him like this had taken a small burden off her heart, and she hoped that it would all be taken off when he saw his ship again.

Camille had always been intrigued by Jack, and had fallen in love with him from the very beginning when she convinced herself that it was impossible. Seeing Jack down really upset her, especially since she still knew so little about him. He always came to her when he was depressed over his loss of the _Pearl_, but he had never really expressed himself in words when he did so.

She took his hat off, placing it on her own head. "I found something that I think you'll like," she said playfully.

He looked at her, enjoying the coy grin that spread across her face. He kept his arm around her waist as they made their way into the house. He was always very entertained at the way Camille perceived the world. She was always so innocent to him. "Now, I am wonderin' what it is that you're so convinced I will enjoy," he replied smoothly.

She couldn't hold back anymore, she had to tell him. They were just outside the back doors when she turned around, holding his hand. "Well, it's made of wood…" she pretended to think of a description, "…it's very big, and the entire King's Navy should be stomping on their wigs right about now."

The look on Jack's face was amazing. He stared at her, with almost a frown on his face for a moment until he could speak. "You stole the _Pearl_?" he choked.

"Ana Maria and Will _took_ it. It's not stealing because it wasn't Norrington's to begin with," she corrected. "But in a sense, yes, we did get it back."

There were very few moments in Jack Sparrow's life when he had actually known what it was like to experience the warmth that was true happiness, and since colliding with Camille these instances had grown. He still wasn't very good at identifying what he was feeling. He felt his body go numb, and he wanted to sweep Camille off her feet and not let her leave the bedroom for days.

The expression on his face could still not fully be understood. "Now why would you do a thing like that?" He knew Camille had come up with the plan.

"Jack, I know how much that ship means to you. Well, perhaps I don't, but I do know that it means everything to you. Plus, it wouldn't have done any good just sitting in that port. The Navy isn't going to do anything with a pirate ship," she reasoned.

Jack sighed. Right again. This woman deserved the world, and he was still having trouble believing that he had his _Pearl_ back. "Where is it, then?" he asked, his eyes lighting up like a child.

"I'm not entirely sure. But not to worry, Ana and Will know exactly where it is."

"Camille!" said little Cadence, running up and tripping over Camille's skirts. She looked up, making her way behind the large dress. "Don't tell Daddy," she said just before an out of breath Will entered the room.

"Have either of you seen Cadence?" he asked, looking disheveled. Camille then noticed that he was somewhat soaked, and from the feeling of the bottom of her dress so was his daughter.

A large grin spread across Jack's face. "I imagine you've lost your child again, mate?"

Will shook his head. "She doesn't like bathing, and I can't figure out why. I've never shown her otherwise."

"Perhaps she's afraid of the water," Camille suggested, trying not to laugh as she felt Cadence's little arms gripping her dress. "Whatever the reason, I'm sure that you can find her if you just follow the little wet footprints," she said, stepping to the side to cover them up.

Will shook his head, causing some water to run out of his hair. "Yes, I suppose so." He turned around and began searching for small puddles. "And Jack, stop that grinning. It worries me."

This made Jack's grin grow even bigger. He looked like he was going to burst out laughing any minute. "I told him about the _Pearl_," Camille explained.

Jack nodded wildly. "Yes, I am a bit ecstatic."


	3. The Wee Lassie's First Luve

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is a poem by G.F. Savage-Armstrong.

Chapter 3: The Wee Lassie's First Luve

Will nodded. "She's perfectly safe, Ana Maria and I made sure that nothing will happen to her."

Peter entered the room. "Miss Camille, excuse me, but Annie would like to-hello, Cadence!" he said, waving at the child.

Will's eyes widened, approaching Camille and looking behind her at his daughter. "Cadence, just what are you doing back there?" he asked with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Cadence said nothing, but looked up and pointed to Jack. Jack's jaw dropped. "You little traitor!"

Will looked at his friend tiredly. "Jack, I'll ask you one more time to stop giving Cadence these ideas. You are not her father, after all."

Jack opened his mouth in protest, but Will was completely right (even though Jack wasn't involved this time). Camille caught the look in his eye and spoke up. "I'm so sorry darling, I tried my best," she said to little Cadence. "You'd better listen to your father."

As Will coaxed Cadence into following him once more to the washroom, Annie came in holding something. "Telegram for ya, Miss Quartamaine. Said it was urgent," she said, pressing the parchment into her hand.

Camille examined the seal quickly, and took it off, handing it to Jack as he leaned in to read beside her. Both of their eyes widened at the same time, causing Annie to clutch at her chest. "What is it? What's the trouble?"

Camille quickly regained her composure, laughing nervously. "There's no trouble, Annie. We're going to have a few guests shortly, that's all. They are the Thatcher family from the Fuego Del Reina down by Peru, more or less. They've decided to come and visit Jack and me in Port Celebros," she said, showing Annie the letter. It did say just that, but as Annie and Peter left she looked at Jack.

"Why are the Thatchers coming here?" she asked worriedly.

Jack was racking his brain, searching for another explanation than the obvious one. "I suppose they could merely want to visit." But they both knew that it had something to do with the treasure they had discovered on The Rune.

Camille felt a pit in her stomach. "Jack, I don't like this one bit," she confided in him.

"Neither do I, love. But it's best to see what they know before jumping to any conclusions," he said wisely.

She nodded. "You're right."

Jack turned and faced her, rubbing his hand along her dress and resting it on her waist. "You are so beautiful in that dress, Camille."

She smiled. "Thank you." She kissed him, groping about his body where women were not supposed to grope. He returned the favor, slipping his fingers down between her breasts and squeezing her slightly. She giggled as they continued to kiss.

About one week later, Camille was in her mansion's library. (Technically it was Will's because women couldn't own property, but WHATEVER) She was perusing through the collections of literature and poetry as she usually did. It was midafternoon, and she was the only one in the house at the moment.

She had just finished reading a poem by William Blake, and it happened to be the very last poem of the book. She shut it, anxious to begin a new book of poetry. She couldn't remember where she had gotten the book, and wandered around a bit by the two cases it had to be from. Finally, she saw the space where it went, at the top of one of the cases.

She looked at it and sighed. The ladder had broken several years ago, but they had not needed one since Peter enjoyed climbing the shelves to get books on the top for Camille to read. But since she didn't have his nimbleness, she would have to use her own.

She took her shoes off, not wanting to get any type of serious injury, and began climbing. When her feet were on the second shelf, she heard a creaking noise. Startled, she shifted her weight so that her other foot was on the bookcase right behind the bookcase she was climbing. This seemed to work, except now she had to climb one shelf higher to reach her desired location. She did so, and had barely touched her foot to the shelf when it cracked in half.

She gasped, dropping the book and clutching the top shelf out of instinct. She looked from side to side, deciding which was the best way to climb back down as the books began spilling out from beneath her. There was another creak, and to her horror the bookcase that she was hanging on for dear life was beginning to fall. "Oh no!" she cried. Not only was she going to be crushed by a bookcase, but the Domino effect was also going to take place.

As soon as she was close enough to the ground, she lay flat on the floor and covered her head with her hands. She could feel pieces of wood and dust and books falling on her, and prayed that she would not be trapped under anything that was heavy.

When all of the noise died down, she shook herself free from the mess. Luckily, two of the cases had collided, forming a small peak so that she was not injured. But she was covered with books. She stood up, brushed herself off, and looked around the library. From now on she would wait until Peter was home.

"Camille?" Jack called. He coughed a couple of times, waving his hand back and forth to clear some of the dust. "Camille darling, are you all right?" he asked, trying to make his way through the sea of chaos.

"Yes Jack, I'm fine," she said, nearly tripping over a broken shelf as she made her way towards him. "But I'm afraid I've lost my shoes."

"I would think that shoes would be the least of your worries," Jack said, looking around. "Christ, woman. What in the hell were you doing in here?"

"I was climbing the shelves, to put a book back on the top one, and the entire library just came collapsing down on me!" she explained.

Jack examined one of the cases, knocking on it and then squinting his eyes to get a better look at the wood. "Well, it's no wonder the place didn't do it sooner. This wood's been all rotted out," he said, sniffing it slightly. "Pity."

"Yes, well I'm just glad that it was me and not one of the children," she said as they stepped over the mounds of books to get to the door and back into the main hallway. "I suppose I had better change out of these."

"Nonsense, a little sawdust never hurt anyone," Jack said, brushing off her dress and removing small wooden particles from her hair.


	4. Dear Dark Head

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is from this 18th century song verse written by Anonymous.

A/N: I dunno if I can stand to keep Gretchen as a static character. She's really annoying. I was inspired to try though, because I am currently reading "Mansfield Park" by Jane Austen and the character of Mrs. Norris really impressed me because she is the world's biggest bitch. So I'm gonna see if I can stick to it.

Chapter 4: Dear Dark Head

She laughed, stroking Jack's braided beard as he did so. She was about to kiss him when she thought she could hear a horse outside. She stopped and made her way to one of the windows, lifting the curtains and looking out.

"What is it?" Jack asked, striding over.

"It's the Thatchers!" she said excitedly, forgetting her nervousness about their visit. She flung the doors open and began walking down to the gate in her bare feet.

The first one out of the coach was Gabriel, and he looked just as handsome as ever. His smile brought her back to the last time they'd slept together, and she embraced him tightly. "Gabriel, it's so good to see you again," she said warmly.

He smiled and nodded, pulling away. "And you as well, Camille," he said. He hesitated for a moment to let go of her arm, but released her immediately when he caught sight of Jack lingering in the doorway.

Priscilla was the next one to bounce right out of the coach. She curtseyed very politely. "Hello, Miss Camille. It's so good to see you again," she said, bounding into Camille's arms afterwards.

"Hello again, darling," Camille responded. "How are you doing?"

"Wonderfully!" Priscilla exclaimed. "Though we have missed you quite a bit. Gabriel won't stop talking about you."

She looked at Gabriel, who flushed. "Oh, really?" she inquired.

Priscilla nodded. "Yes, and Gretchen is back to being a prat again!" she whispered fiercely.

"I heard that, Priscilla!" Gretchen said as Camille burst out laughing. Gretchen was dripping with lace and pearls, as usual. Her hair was in tight curls, and it looked as if she had been primping the entire way just for this moment when she could step off the coach and look fabulous. The men scurried around her, getting all of her luggage. Camille could see the coach actually lighten as her bags and suitcases were lugged off.

"You can just set the luggage in the front hall," she explained to the men, who looked anguished at having to carry it all the way up the hill.

"Yes, and don't drop any of my things," Gretchen snarled.

Camille winced. Ah, Maximilian Thatcher's genes. "It's lovely to see you too, Gretchen."

Gretchen gave a slight nod, but still had her nose up in the air. "You as well, darling. Where are you servants? I broke a nail on the uncomfortable, long ride over here. And I feel terribly exhausted."

Camille sighed. "Actually, I don't have any servants. But I would be happy to assist you until the rest of the household comes back," she offered.

Gretchen stared at the tremendous house at the end of the winding path. "Am I supposed to walk all the way up there?"

"It's not really that far," Camille assured her, taking Priscilla's hand and starting up the stairs just behind the gate. Gabriel followed at their heels, leaving his whining sister behind.

Camille showed them into the house, tipping the poor coachmen generously before they left. Gabriel and Priscilla looked around. "It's beautiful," Priscilla exclaimed. "How many others live here, Miss Camille?"

"Seven others, not including myself," Camille said, trying to move one of the suitcases. "Gretchen, what did you pack in here? It's so heavy!" she exclaimed.

"Clothes," Gretchen said simply. "Now, show me to my room. I must change."

"You just changed before getting into Port Celebros," Gabriel said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, do be quiet! Don't pretend you know anything about what a lady has to go through," Gretchen snapped.

"Speaking of ladies, what are you doing here?" Jack said, making his presence known. One of Gretchen's suitcases was opened, and he was trying on rings and necklaces, sorting through it.

"Captain Sparrow!" Priscilla beamed.

Gabriel went rigid again. "Hello, Captain Sparrow."

Jack straightened up. "Salutations, Thatchers," he said lightly. He was not aware of Gabriel's and Camille's previous relationship.

Gretchen's face was white, and she looked about to faint. She stared at the captain with eyes wide, shaking. She tried to utter something, but nothing would come out of her mouth. She just looked helplessly from him to Gabriel.

Jack looked at her. "What, are you surprised to see me?" he asked in an indignant tone.

Gretchen looked shocked and horrified. Then she turned to Gabriel. "You told me he wouldn't be here!" she accused.

"I didn't know he was going to be with Camille!" Gabriel protested. "He did save us, you know."

"That doesn't matter, he's a bloody pirate!" Gretchen said, speaking about Jack as if he was not present. "I refuse to stay here and associate with him!"

"Well then, where do you plan on staying?" Camille asked plainly.

"At an inn!" she said, not calming down.

"And who's going to carry your luggage? Gretchen, please be reasonable," Gabriel said, making his way over to one of the biggest suitcases and lifting it up without much difficulty at all. "Where shall I put our luggage, Miss Camille?"

"Follow me, I will show you all to your rooms," Camille said, gathering up her skirts and moving up the stairs. Camille made sure that Gretchen got the biggest guest room, although she had originally intended it to be for Gabriel. Priscilla was perfectly content with hers.

Camille and Jack were hauling Gretchen's luggage up the stairs when Will came home. Jack looked very relieved to see him, and Camille waved to him, descending the staircase to get the last couple of bags. "We have guests, Will," Camille chattered excitedly. "They arrived just a short while ago."

Will nodded. "I see. Here, let me get those. You look a bit flustered."

"Oh," she said, out of breath. "Thank you." She made a mental note to take off her corset as soon as possible. She loathed the restricted breathing. "I'll go and start dinner. Gretchen, would you like to help me in the kitchen, dear?" she called, knowing full well what the answer would be.


	5. Homecoming

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is a poem by Martha Collins.

A/N: Thanks, Jaynie Grace. I don't mean to brag, but I do love my opening sentence. I was going for a real attention grabber. Thank you for the reviews!

Chapter 5: Homecoming

"Camille, don't play games," Gretchen called, coming out of her room. "You know perfectly well that I never learned-" she stopped short when she saw the handsome young Will Turner standing next to Camille.

Camille cleared her throat. "Gretchen, I would like you to meet Mr. William Turner. He is the head of the household."

In that moment, the pouting pucker on Gretchen's face was suddenly angelic as she glided down the staircase. "Gretchen Thatcher," she said in a lighter tone, extending her hand almost to his lips.

He kissed it politely. "Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Thatcher. Could you please excuse me?" he said, continuing towards the staircase with her bags.

"Oh, of course," she said, following him up. "You may know of my late father, God Bless his soul, Maximilian Thatcher. He was one of the richest landowners in Peru…"

Camille made her way to the kitchen and began dinner, which went very smoothly when Annie, Ana Maria, and the children returned. Priscilla had brought along some of her dolls, and generously shared with Sheila and Cadence before supper. Peter and Gabriel were exchanging pirate stories animatedly.

"All right, children," Ana Maria said, setting the places. "Go and wash up," she said as four pairs of footsteps scrambled out of the room.

"That smells wonderful," Gabriel observed, taking a seat. This made Annie grin.

"Yes, Annie is a wonderful cook. It's because of her that I was able to feed an entire ship of men," Camille explained, pouring the wine. She straightened up. "Jack! William! Gretchen! Dinner time!" she called.

Cadence was the first one to come scampering back into the kitchen. Ana Maria set her in her chair, cutting her food up into tiny pieces for her. Peter was next, and he wanted to sit right next to Gabriel.

"Annie, sit down. You've been on your feet all day, I'll serve the food," Camille said.

Annie huffed, taking a seat on the other side of Peter. "Thank ya, child," she said gratefully. Ana Maria sat next to Cadence so that she could help her with any food she managed to get into her mouth, and Sheila on the other side of her. Priscilla sat next to her brother. "Miss Camille, may I sit next to the captain?" she inquired.

"Of course you can, my dear," she said as Jack made his way into the kitchen. He had taken off his hat and jacket because Annie did not allow Peter to wear either at the table, and he had been forced to set a good example.

Again Priscilla beamed at Jack, motioning for him to sit right by her. Jack cocked his eyebrow, and looked to Camille for reassurance. "Sure this is all right, darling? She is another woman."

"I won't get too jealous, I promise," Camille smiled, putting the food on the table. As she took her seat, Jack nudged her and nodded to the other end of the table.

Will was pulling out Gretchen's chair for her, and she had chosen the only seat left, which was right next to his. She grinned, looking at Jack who shared her feeling.

The meal was immensely entertaining, because it was so different from usual. Gretchen barely touched her food because she was so caught up in talking to Will, who was pretending very hard to be interested in what she had to say and nodded every once in awhile. The children were extremely well behaved, and Cadence barely managed to get any food on her dress. Priscilla was enchanted by Jack. And none of them brought up the treasure.

"I must say, that was delicious," Gabriel complimented. "Not a servant in our household could have prepared a meal quite like that."

Priscilla nodded, not taking her eyes off Jack. Gretchen was of course, still talking to Will.

Jack nodded, wiping his mouth and setting down his napkin. "Well, we have three of the loveliest and most hardworking ladies to thank," he said, gesturing towards Ana Maria, Annie, and Camille who all turned the same shade of pink in the cheeks and looked down simultaneously.


	6. The Masque of the Red Death

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is an AMAZING short story by Edgar Allen Poe.

Chapter 6: The Masque of the Red Death

Afterwards, the three of them stayed in the kitchen as all of the children went off to play. Gretchen was still talking to Will. "Excuse me Gretchen, perhaps you should help us with the dishes," Camille said, interrupting her.

Ana Maria overheard her. "Camille!" she said in shock. "She is a guest, she will do no such thing," she said, taking more plates off the table.

Gretchen looked at Camille. "I think you should listen to her."

Camille looked at Will. "I'm sorry," she mouthed. Will nodded, letting her know that it was okay. She turned to help with the dishes, but Gabriel casually pulled her aside.

"I think this may be the best time for me to speak with you," he whispered.

She nodded, excusing herself and leading Gabriel to what used to be her father's study. By now she was extremely nervous about what he had to say. "This has to do with the treasure, I'm assuming?" she asked first.

Gabriel nodded. "Yes, it does. Priscilla doesn't know anything, and Gretchen refuses to even acknowledge anything about our mother anymore. I've been searching for the answer, but I'm afraid I can't figure out what went wrong."

Camille watched him patiently, trying to think of all the horrible things that could have gone wrong with the treasure. What if Long John was still alive? Or if the treasure was cursed? She remembered Jack and Will telling her of Captain Barbossa and his crew of immortals, and bit her lip.

"It turns out that the treasure did have a curse put on it," he continued. "But then I get lost. You see, I managed to track down both pieces of the map. And it was hard to decipher at first-I can't recall the exact words on it-but, it says something about the treasure that one keeps being a death sentence."

"What? You must've read it wrong, we didn't keep any of it for ourselves. We gave all of it away," Camille insisted.

"I didn't read it wrong."

"Well then, how do you know we are in danger?"

Gabriel said nothing, but rolled up his sleeve. Camille looked at him questioningly, for she saw nothing but his arm. He gestured for her to follow him toward the fireplace, and squatted down in front of it. "Watch closely, just below my elbow," he instructed.

She obeyed, and in a few seconds saw a large dark mark appear. It was a skull, and coming out of one of the eye sockets was a snake. It glowed in the light of the fire, and she let out a small gasp. The red lines seemed to glow, like the symbol had been freshly carved in Gabriel's skin.

She could see that he was in pain by doing this. He clamped his other hand around it and stood up, back away from the fire. He looked at her afterwards. "I have reason to believe that you have a similar mark."

Camille stared at him, and then into the fireplace. She took a deep breath, and shook her head. "I don't want to do it."

"Camille, please. I must know."

"But what does it matter? What does the mark mean, anyway?"

Gabriel shook his head. "I don't know. But it's on the map."

She knelt down as best she could in her dress, and rolled up her own sleeve, looking away at first. Slowly, she began to feel a shallow cut. Looking down, she saw the exact same mark forming just below the inside of her elbow. And it burned! She pulled away before it had time to form completely. She stood up, still looking in to the fire. "We've been marked," she said sadly. But what did they symbolize? "I've got to tell Jack."

"No, he mustn't know of this!" Gabriel protested.

"But if anyone can help us, he can. He knows more about curses and treasure that you or I will ever know," she insisted. "You can trust him. He doesn't know about us," she said, lowering the last part to a whisper.

"It's not that. I'm not sure that I entirely trust that man," Gabriel confided.

"Gabriel," she said sincerely, "The women on the island died protecting the treasure. And we were the ones who brought about their death. If we can do anything to make up for that, it's learn about this mark."

"Aye, spoken like a true warrior." They both turned around, and Jack was standing in the doorway.

Camille looked at Gabriel, but he ducked out of the room immediately, brushing past Jack. Jack looked after him, than shrugged. He looked back at Camille and saw the horrified look on her face. "Love, you look as if you've just seen a ghost."

She swallowed. "Jack, the treasure…it was cursed."

"No, it wasn't. What is Gabriel telling you? Don't let him scare you."

Camille looked at him. He looked so entirely sure of himself, and she couldn't figure out why Gabriel had doubts about trusting him. "Jack…" she began slowly. "We did give away everything we took with us from The Rune, didn't we?"

"Of course we did. Camille, what is going on?" Jack asked sternly.

She took a deep breath and turned to the fire. "I have something to show you." Taking a few more deep breaths, she bent down in front of the fire, exposing her arm once again. This time she watched as it formed, slowly at first but then the lines came together in a deep shade of red. "Ouch!" she cried out as the pain surged up her arm. She took it away, shaking it out and covering it back up with her sleeve.

She turned to look at Jack, who was still gazing into the fire. "What does it mean; do you know? Jack, please answer me."

"It's a symbol of death," he replied monotonously, still looking into the fire.

She felt like she was going to throw up. "What?"

He was still looking at the flames, and they danced in his eyes. After a long moment, he rolled up his sleeve and did the same as Camille. Just over his tattoo of the sparrow flying in front of the sun, the same mark appeared. He stared at it, wide-eyed as it boiled on his skin.

Camille remained quiet as she watched it and him. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"Not as much as some things, love," he said thoughtfully before pulling away. "Gabriel has one, too?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Then I'm assuming that the child and that wretched woman have one as well. It was the five of us who touched the treasure. But why the curse?" he said, talking to himself more than Camille. She crossed her arms over her chest, trying her best to be patient and let him think. Finally, he made eye contact with her. "Did Gabriel tell you anything else about the curse?"

"He said that it was meant for those who kept the treasure for themselves. Jack, we must still have something."

He bit his lip, thinking hard. "I don't know," he said, sounding defeated.

Camille sighed. "Curse of the Sullivans," she murmured.

At that moment, a horrible realization hit Jack. His eyes grew so wide that she thought they were going to burst out of his head. He reached into his coat pocket, and drew out a small ring. "Sullivan," he said. Now he knew that MS had been Camille's mother's initials.

She looked at him, terrified. "You took something!" she nearly shrieked. "Jack Sparrow, what could have possibly caught your eye?"

"I'm so sorry, darling," he said in a low voice. He sounded so devastated as he dropped the ring into her palm.

She stared at him blankly. "A ring? We are cursed to something terrible because you kept a _ring_? Jack…" she said hopelessly.

"Well it isn't as if I'd done it on purpose," he said, becoming defensive. It was true, he had completely forgotten about that ring that he'd found. He felt bad enough for dragging Camille into this, and he was regretting the whole incident again.

"Jack, I know that look. Don't go regretting everything again. There has got to be a way to solve this." She examined the little ring in her hand, noticing the sparkling emerald in the middle. "Oh my God, I've seen this ring before!" she exclaimed. She squinted her eyes, looking for the initials. "This is-_was,_ I should say-my mother's engagement ring."

Jack nodded. "I didn't know that when I pocketed it," he admitted.

She looked at him and rolled her eyes. Then she focused her attention back on the ring. It was so pretty. She slid it onto her ring finger, and it fit perfectly. "It's so beautiful," she said, admiring it for a moment and forgetting all about the curse.

She felt badly for yelling at Jack. It could have been any one of them who had unknowingly kept a small piece of the treasure. "Would you like your ring back?" she asked in a gentler voice.

"'s not mine," he said, and she could see that he was still upset. She bit her lip. There had to be something that would cheer him up.


	7. Moonlight

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is from William Shakespeare's _The Merchant of Venice_. It's a soliloquy called "Moonlight".

Chapter 7: Moonlight

He ran his rough hands ever so gently along the weathered wood, taking in the familiar smell of the sea. He steadied himself from the rhythmic rocking he was so used to. Without opening his eyes, he placed his hands on the wheel. This was home. This was where he belonged. Not in a grand house like Camille's, but on the sea, on the ship. _His_ ship. His _Pearl_. He cranked the wheel as hard as he could all the way to one side, and laughed when he heard a shriek below him on deck.

"Would you like to warn me the next time you do that?" Camille called angrily.

He laughed, seeing the annoyed look on her shadow-covered face. "Just keepin' you on your feet, love!" he called.

"I can keep on my feet perfectly well without your help!" she yelled back before disappearing to the other end. He knew she was finding some secluded area to watch the stars. Stars were, in Camille's mind, one of the most important aspects about living. She always liked to watch them, believing that one of them was the angel of her mother looking down on them.

He left the helm shortly, and made his way to where she was leaning comfortably on the banister. She could always lean so far out that he thought she might topple over the edge of the ship, but she never did. He watched her slender figure outlined by the starlight. She always looked beautiful no matter what, but he liked her best when she wore tight formfitting clothing. He put his arms around her and she embraced him back immediately as he kissed her neck.

"Camille, you mean so much to me, darling," he said, holding her in his arms. "No one else could take an entire ship away from under a whole navy."

"I did it because I knew it would make you happy."

He spun her around so that she faced him and took her hands. "_You_ make me happy."

She smiled and took hold of his dreadlocks like she always did when she was about to kiss him. He shut his eyes and patiently waited a moment or two, wondering what the sudden delay was.

When he opened them, Camille was staring at her hand, turning it over and over. It had little golden lines all over it. He knew what to do. He took her arm and held it up. "Spread your fingers," he commanded. She did so, and the lines became clearer. He had only heard about these in legend; he had never actually encountered anything like it.

"This is a map," he said. Then he looked back at Camille. "You're not going to want to tell anyone else about this," he said quietly.

"Anybody?"

"No one, Camille!" he said, his emotion leaking out. "Not Gabriel, or Will, or Annie, or Ana Maria. No one can know about this map!"

"And just how detrimental is this to me?" she asked quietly.

He calmed down, taking a moment to recompose himself. "Very."

She sighed. "Well, I suppose the threat of death shouldn't scare me anymore."

"Nonsense," he said seriously. "Any person who is not afraid to die has no reason to live." He grabbed her hand gently, putting it up again. "This map is in the ring, if you will," he demonstrated, taking the ring off her finger. The little map disappeared when he did so. He enclosed her hand around it. "Keep it hidden."

She nodded. "I wish I knew what all of this meant."

"As do I, love. Our questions will not go unanswered," he reassured her. "The only ones who know about this are you and me. If that changes, we'll destroy the ring," he promised, playing with her hair. "Don't think I'm going to let anything happen to you."

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I know that I'm perfectly safe with you, Jack. I just wish the rest of the world did."

He grinned. "Someday, my dear." He thought about all of this. Camille was in danger now, and it was his fault. He couldn't have cared any less about the mark on his own skin. In the past few years, something in him had changed dramatically. He found this woman and the sea both equal of deserving his utmost affections.

"Camille darling, put the ring back on. I want to see something."

She obeyed without question, and again the map appeared. Jack looked at it carefully, moving her hand this way and that. "I should know where that is," he scolded himself. "Wait here, and don't move," he said as he dashed across the deck and into his cabin.

She waited, moving her hand back and forth slightly, watching the markings change. There were a few dots on her hand, and she wondered where they represented. In another moment, Jack was at her side again.

"It's Colombia," he informed her. "It is a map of Colombia," he said, unrolling the piece of parchment he held. He set it on the banister, holding its edges to keep it from curling back up. "If I could only see in the dark, I could read this bloody map," he cursed.

"Well, there's a yellow dot just at the edge of it, along the coast. It has to be some sort of port city, doesn't it?" she asked, trying to help.

"Yes, yes," he muttered, scanning the map closely. "Is it closer to Panama or Venezuela?"

"Panama."

"It's Port Barranquilla," he said, enunciating the word with a Spanish accent. His Spanish had always impressed her just as much as her Gaelic impressed him.

"There's another dot. It's further down, but…I can't explain it very well."

He held the map up, trying to match it up with her hand. They both searched, trying to find the city that matched up the closest to the dot on her hand. It was a small city called Aguadulce. Sweet water, in English, Jack explained to her.


	8. Thanatopsis

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is a poem written by William Cullen Bryant.

Chapter 8: Thanatopsis

They made it back to the house safely and quietly. To Camille's surprise, most of the household had already retired. Only Gabriel and Ana Maria were still up. Ana Maria was fixing a kettle of tea just over the fire. Gabriel just looked at the two of them.

Camille nodded to him. "I told Jack, of course."

Gabriel didn't look as upset as he did awhile ago. He looked up at Jack. "Does the mark mean anything to you, Captain Sparrow?" he asked.

"Aye," Jack said darkly. "The six of us are in quite the predicament."

"We don't know exactly what the danger is yet, I'm afraid," Camille said.

Ana Maria narrowed her eyes, silently demanding an exclamation. Camille wanted to explain, but hesitated at the thought of that unnatural mark burning over her skin again.

Luckily, Jack volunteered as he stepped forward towards the fire. "Allow me," he said, rolling up his sleeve. Even though she and Gabriel had already seen it, they stood just as close as Ana Maria to the fire, watching the thing again.

Ana Maria's mouth hung open. She stepped back and looked at Jack threateningly. "You of all men should know better than to fool with cursed treasure!" she said, shoving him.

"I'll not need reprimanding from you," Jack said coolly, rolling his eyes at her.

She cursed under her breath. "Damn this corset! If I had an ample amount of breath, I'd be hollerin' something awful right now, you can imagine."

"Ah, yes I could."

"So what now?" Camille interjected. "Are we to wait until that mark draws whatever danger out of the seas to us?"

Jack chuckled. "Now comes the fun part, love. Searching for clues," he said with an odd excitement.

"Searching for clues so that we can survive? Sounds thrilling."

"There's no need to be sarcastic, Camille."

"I'll bet we could find something in that extravagant library of yours," Gabriel piped up.

"I destroyed it this afternoon," Camille admitted. "But you're more than welcome to dig around in the array of mess that I left."

"Tomorrow," Ana Maria said. "Should we tell the others? Except for the children, of course."

Jack shook his head. "No."

But at the same time, Camille nodded. Then she looked at Jack. "Why not? They're our friends."

"D'you really want to see how they react to all of this?"

"Well, we can't just tell Will and Gretchen. Than Annie will be the only adult that doesn't know," Camille reasoned.

"Who says we're telling Will? Or Gretchen?" Gabriel asked.

"We can't keep this from Will! And Gretchen has the mark; she should know about it."

But Jack nodded. "The boy is right. It is impossible to tell the young lady without it slipping to the girl."

Ana Maria nodded. "Right, and Camille you know that dear Aunt Annie will just worry herself sick over you."

Camille bit her lip. "I don't like keeping them in the dark about these things."

"None of us do, darling," Jack assured her. "But I believe it may be best if we keep this between the four of us."

They all eventually agreed, although with the exception of Jack they all equally felt terrible about keeping it from their loved ones. Camille fell asleep with a giant pit in her stomach.


	9. Each In His Own Tongue

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is a poem written by William Herbert Carruth.

Chapter 9: Each In His Own Tongue

Morning came quicker than usual, in Camille's opinion. As she dressed, she looked at herself in the mirror. There was no way she could keep this from them. She no longer desired to wear a corset or many undergarments, and only troubled with the bare necessities of her outfit (even though that still made a lot of clothing). But her chest still felt very constricted, even after sitting down.

She got up again and took a deep breath. She had to do this. She descended the staircase and almost forgot her predicament as she could hear Gretchen chattering away. She peered around into the dining room, and could see Gretchen talking vividly to an extremely bored looking Will. She pressed her lips together to hold in a laugh, and took a deep breath.

"William, could you please help me in the kitchen?" she called, suddenly banging pots and pans together to make it sound as if she were busy.

Not a split second later, Will appeared looking very glad to be in the kitchen. Camille grinned. "Good morning, Mr. Turner."

He set his mouth in a straight line. "I don't want to hear another word from you. Nothing is going on."

"Perhaps not on your end of the infatuation."

"How long are the Thatchers supposed to be here?"

"Not for long," said Gabriel, bursting into the kitchen. He leaned on the table, looking at the two of them. "Jack wants to go to Colombia."

Will looked at him. "Colombia? Why on earth would he want to go there?"

Camille shut her eyes tightly, like she had just seen a gruesome image. "I don't know," she said in a fluttery voice. They both noticed her tone and looked at her as Gretchen entered the room.

Will eyed her carefully. "Do you know something else, Camille?" he asked.

She laughed nervously. "Of course not, what would ever give you that idea?"

"Camille…"

"Will honestly, I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, shrinking back as he stepped towards her.

"For God's sake William, don't threaten the woman," Jack said, entering from the backyard with Sheila, Priscilla and Cadence.

Camille smiled as she saw crumbs all over Cadence's mouth and dress. "How was the tea, Captain?" she asked.

"Oh, it was quite lovely thank you," he said, putting Cadence down. "A bit on the sweet side, though. But I think Sheila-"

"Jack, this is kind of important-" Will said, turning back to Camille.

"Excuse me," Jack chided, not letting Will get another word in. "I believe that I was having a conversation," he said, taking Camille from the kitchen and leading her away from the suspicious glares. "-Sheila's cooking has much improved since I saw her last," he continued until they were in another room.

He looked at her. "You have a unique way of not drawing suspicions, my love."

"Jack, I'm sorry, I am trying my best," she quickly apologized. "You know it's not easy for me to lie about things like this."

"Yes I know, and that is to be your downfall if ever you wish to be a successful pirate such as yours truly."

"Jack, I didn't mean to," she said, sounding very distressed. These past few days had been very hard on her.

He winked. "Well, they're onto us now. We may just have to knock 'em over the head and flee."

"Whatever you think is best Captain," she replied tiredly, ignoring his joke. "You really wish to go to Colombia?"

He looked at her very serious. "First of all, yes, because that is what I do best. Secondly, and this must be most obvious to you, I am about to go mad in this house," he said with his teeth together on the last word.

She nodded. "I can understand that well enough. I miss the sea, too. But the timing's horrible. I was thinking about wearing corsets again."

Jack looked at her oddly. She had been so stressed out that he didn't know whether she was serious about this or not. But she winked at him and gave him a playful nudge, and he grinned. "There's the old Camille we all know and love," he said. "I can keep dear William's questions at bay, but this is going to be a bit harder now."

"Thank you, Jack."

"Anything for you, love," he said as they slipped back into the dining room.


	10. Sea Fever

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is a poem by John Masefield.

A/N: The chapters have been short, I know. Here's a nice long one. I'm so sorry I haven't updated in awhile. I've been SWAMPED with finals and now that I'm home my PC sucks. Here we go.

Chapter 10: Sea Fever

But despite his best efforts, Jack's sudden urge to sail off to Colombia on his newly recovered _Pearl_ did not go over well at all. William simply would not take "a simple adventure" as an excuse, and although Gabriel said nothing, it was clear that he had the same thoughts.

The entire predicament reached its peak when Jack began bellowing with his rarely seen captain-consuming rage and then stormed out of the house, hollering something like "You have no right to tell me what I may or may not do with my own bloody ship!" It was real ugly.

Priscilla looked over the banister from upstairs. "What is Captain Sparrow so upset about? Gabriel, what did you say to him?"

Gabriel looked up at her, shaking his head. "I didn't say anything."

Camille had her arms crossed in front of her chest. She had tried to calm the men down, but it had been to no avail. As usual Will was worried about where Jack's head was at when it came to Camille vs. treasure, and he had argued his point as vehemently as humanly possible. "Well, that didn't go over too well at all."

"I'll say," Ana Maria said, appearing with Cadence following her. "I could hear him yellin' all the way from the other end of the house. What's gotten him so upset?"

"Jack wants to sail to Colombia," Will said simply, eyeing Camille. She felt a moment of panic, because Ana Maria would never let this slide.

She looked back and forth from the gentlemen to Camille. "Colombia? Why on earth would he choose that country? I've never heard him refer to anything that has to do with Colombia."

Gabriel shrugged. "Neither have any of us," he said as Will opened his mouth again. He quickly shut it, nodding hastily and looking down at the ground.

Ana looked puzzled. "Of all the times for the man to go mad. Does he know where the _Pearl_'s at?"

Camille nodded. "Aye, he's probably there at the moment."

Will sighed. "It's probably best to let him brood over this for awhile. But this discussion is not over."

Camille bit her lip, weighing the pros and cons of going to Jack. No, she had to be strong. This curse could not get the best of her nerves yet. She nodded after Will spoke, but knew that he was still watching her reactions very carefully.

She was very grateful when the doorbell rang, and flitted off immediately to answer it, though Annie was there. She swung back the door and gasped in surprise. There was James Norrington. In all that had happened recently, she had completely forgotten about their deed. Plus, she was harboring a pirate!

But there was something very different about him. He was not wearing his blue officer's uniform; not even a red one. Could he have been demoted so low? Even his powdered wig was gone, as he showed the brown hair that she'd never known him to have.

She opened the door wide, making a curtsey and gesturing him inside. "Won't you please come in, Commodore?" she said, figuring it was much more polite to call him by the incorrect title rather than no title at all. "Mr. Norrington" just didn't sound right to her.

He nodded. "Thank you, Miss Quartermaine. But I'm afraid I am to be referred to as James Norrington from now on," he said with no change in intonation.

"Very well," she said. She was not going to question him. "What do I owe the pleasure?"

He looked at her, and his eyes looked rather saddened. He cleared his throat. "I have come to ask your permission to say my final farewells to your father." Seeing the shocked look on Camille's face, he explained "I'm leaving for England in one week's time."

"I see," she said, leading him through the halls. "You will find his epitaph just beyond the flower garden. It's a bit of a walk."

Norrington smiled. "That's quite all right. Thank you, Miss Quartermaine." After he exited to the garden, Camille let her jaw drop in horror. She turned around, and sure enough Will and Ana Maria were standing there with the same expressions on their faces.

"Oh my God, did we just ruin his career?" Camille asked.

Ana Maria bit her lip. "I think so."

"This is not good," Will added.

But there really wasn't anything that the three of them could do to correct it. They had done what pirates do, and chosen between their captain and his enemy. But she felt horrible. "It didn't even cross my mind that he would be punished for losing the _Pearl_."

"Well, what did you think was going to happen?" Ana Maria asked.

"I assumed the men would just be reprimanded. I mean, he is a very good soldier," Will admitted.

"It _was_ the last pirate ship in the Caribbean…" Camille said, leaving off in the middle of her thought.

"Why the guilt anyway, Camille? I thought you despised the King's Navy."

"It's only that little prat Gillette whom I despise," she said sourly. "The King's Navy has never done me any wrong. I've always thought James to be a decent person, as well. Besides, not once has the man tried to get into the marriage bed."

"And a man of that nature is worthy of your liking?" Will guessed.

She nodded. "Aye," she said, grinning as Gretchen appeared above the stairs.

"Camille? Oh Camille, there you are! I haven't been able to find anyone to fetch my slippers for me. I've no idea where they are," she called down.

Will ducked a little, Ana Maria frowned, and Camille put her hands on her hips. "There are much bigger things going on than the location of your slippers," she replied casually.

Gretchen looked at her, as if she was mishearing. She was not used to being denied every small luxury. She looked at her with a cold stare. "But I need my slippers. My feet will get cold without them."

"I don't think that would be so detrimental to your health, Gretchen." Camille spoke quickly, hoping the faster she dismissed the woman's attitude the sooner it would disappear. And right then an idea was going through her head. Ignoring Gretchen's incessant whining and looked at Ana Maria. "I think it's time to start preparing dinner, don't you think?"

Ana Maria nodded, for once missing the look in her eyes. The small group parted from watching the garden shortly before Norrington came back in. He found Camille with Cadence about to go up to the nursery.

"Leaving so soon?" she asked.

Norrington smiled politely. "Yes. Thank you so much, Miss Quartermaine."

"Please, Mr. Norrington. Won't you stay for dinner?"

Both Norrington and Cadence looked at Camille oddly, but she smiled so sincerely. "I-I don't think so, Miss Quartermaine," he said after recovering himself.

"I am not going to take 'no' for an answer. You were always a very good friend of my father's, I think it would please him greatly."

Norrington nodded. "That may be true, but I couldn't impose."

Camille laughed, making Cadence smile and clap her hands. "We've got extra mouths to feed anyhow. The Thatchers are here all the way from Peru to stay in our house. One more place setting at the table is not going to do us any damage, I assure you."

Norrington didn't know what to say, so he gave in. "Well, I suppose I could stay for a bit."

Camille smiled. "Wonderful. Now if you'll excuse me, I am needed in the kitchen."


	11. O Captain! My Captain!

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is a poem by Walt Whitman. Witty, I call him.

A/N: I had to do this scene. I don't know what it is about Norrington, but I love him. I'm going to experiment with his character and we'll see what he's like when he's not a commanding officer.

Chapter 11: O Captain! My Captain!

Annie had a migraine, so Camille brought her dinner upstairs to her room. Other than that, and with the exception of Gretchen, the beginning of dinner went wonderfully.

"So what is England like? I've never been there," Camille inquired.

"Well," Norrington cleared his throat. "It's much different than here in Jamaica, I must say. And much colder," he began.

Camille nodded eagerly, being very polite and listening intently. They all carefully avoided the subject of ships or anything to do with the Navy, and so far it was going splendidly.

All of a sudden, the talking died down and the dining room was silent as Jack waltzed in. James had his glass tilted to his mouth, about to take a sip of wine, and froze.

Camille had mentally been preparing for this moment, and had gone through every possible scenario from best to worst in her head. She turned around and smiled. She was sitting next to Will, who was at the head of the table. Across from her sat Norrington, with the shocked expression on his face. "Hello, Jack. You're just in time for dinner, now have a seat."

Jack narrowed his eyes, not recognizing the former military man at first. He simply stood there, mentally matching up the facial features. Then he looked at Camille sternly. "What in th'bloody hell is _he_ doing here?"

"Watch your language, Jack," Ana Maria scolded.

Norrington cleared his throat, putting down the glass and toying with his napkin. "Good evening, Sparrow," he said with his voice full of disdain.

But Camille worked through the tension, her cheerful voice not wavering for a second. "He is our guest, Captain," she said, addressing Jack very formerly to soothe his bruising ego. "I took the liberty of inviting him to dinner."

Jack continued to look at James, and Camille could see him weighing the situation. He slowly walked up to the empty chair next to Camille and pulled it out, not taking his eyes away from Norrington as he sat down. "I thought you hated the British Navy, love," he said to Camille.

"They have never wronged me, and that is really beside the point," she tried to hint to him. But he didn't get it. So she leaned over and whispered in his ear as quiet conversation again resumed. "He's no longer the Commodore."

"Ah, I see. Well that really changes the fact that he's tried to kill me!" Jack exclaimed, his eyes seething with fury as he and Norrington continued to stare each other down.

"Perhaps I should be going," James said, standing up. "I would feel terrible intruding in to Mr. Sparrow's home like this," he said sarcastically.

"_Captain_," Jack corrected through his gritted teeth.

"Stop fighting!" All eyes turned to the little girl with brown fuzz covering her head. She had her tiny hands clapped over her mouth, looking wide-eyed.

Camille nodded. "Well put, Cadence. James, please sit down," she said firmly.

"Oh, so now you're calling him by his first name?" Jack demanded.

Camille rolled her eyes. "Anyhow, I suppose this may seem a bit suspicious. I believe it may be time for a confession."

"Nonsense, we've done nothing wrong," Jack stated.

"Poppycock! He's a pirate!" Gretchen shouted.

"Gretchen, please," Gabriel insisted. "This is not our matter to get involved in."

James looked at them all, and then back to Camille. "Well since we are on the subject of confessions, I hate to admit that he is right," he said, meaning Jack. "The money stolen from your father's vault was found to be in Gillette's possession shortly after your leaving Port Celebros."

Camille's mouth hung open for a second before she remembered her manners. She looked at Jack who sat next to her, looking rather comfortable now. "I'd always thought that had been you."

He looked at her. "Me?" he said innocently. "I know better than to mess with you, Miss Quartermaine."

"It took you quite awhile," Ana Maria teased, getting an extremely rude hand gesture in return.

"Jack, not in front of Cadence, please," Will begged, speaking up for the first time in quite awhile.

"Ah, dear William! There you are, mate!" Jack pointed out. "Didn't see you there."

"Well, he has been there the entire time!" Priscilla pointed out, almost shouting from across the table at the other end.

"Yes thank you, Miss Thatcher."

Camille smiled, and couldn't help herself. "I'm sorry," she apologized when the men looked at her. "I am just so happy that Gillette is in jail."

And to everyone's absolute surprise, it was James who let out a loud and hearty laugh. Jack looked terrified, like the man was convulsing or something. James sat back, still chuckling. "I've never liked that man."

"What? He followed you around everywhere!" Will asked. He too, was surprised.

"He is a very shallow man, but is capable of charming his way into and out of most situations. He was a brilliant fighter, though. That was the sole reason I tolerated him for so long."

Camille put her hand to her chest, signifying that she was very relieved.   
"I'm so glad to hear you say that, James." She glanced at Jack, who was observing James' state a bit more closely. He looked at her questioningly, and she winked. "More wine?"

James nodded. "Ah, yes thank you," he said, eagerly putting his glass forward. He tilted his head back and took a large gulp. "As I was saying, I have never known I man whom I have disliked more."

"Not even me, Norrie?" Jack asked, grinning devilishly.

James shrugged. "Very unlikely. Gillette was a…a…" he searched for the right word.

"A prick?" Camille offered.

Will's eyes widened. "Camille!" he said warningly.

But Jack laughed. "I think we should do this more often. I'm rather enjoying myself." He began reaching across Camille to get the bottle of wine that was quickly emptying. Coincidentally, one of the two candelabras was there and lit.


	12. Not In Vain

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is a poem by Emily Dickinson.

Chapter 12: Not in Vain

James, being only loose, was still as sharp as ever. Camille noticed him squinting his eyes slightly and focusing too much on Jack's arm. As she put two and two together she elbowed her own half empty wine glass and made it pour into Jack's lap.

Jack jumped. "Hey!"

"Oh my, Jack I am so sorry!" Camille immediately reacted as she threw a napkin over the wet part of the table cloth. "I can be so clumsy sometimes."

"Not to worry, love. Though it does seem like a bit of a waste of perfectly good drink," Jack said casually, mopping up his soaked loins (YESSS!).

James was still looking at him a bit oddly, and Camille turned her attention from the spill to him. Their eyes met, and it was obvious that he was now suspicious.

He said nothing until the meal was over and the dishes were being cleared away. When the table was clearing and Ana Maria was in the kitchen with Priscilla and Sheila, James made sure to be very discreet. He made sure that the dining room was empty except for himself and Camille, who was clearing dishes.

"Miss Quartermaine, do you realize the danger you are in?" he asked in a low voice.

"James, what are you talking about?" she said, not making eye contact with him.

"Camille," he said seriously as she straightened up. "Captain Sparrow has the mark of the Devil's Dowry on him."

Her eyes grew wide. "You know what the mark means?"

"Of course, I would assume Sparrow would know just as well."

"But he doesn't. James, how do you know what the mark means?" she said in a whisper.

"You forget that the jails cells in Port Royale harbored the pirate John Silver for a short time."

"You got this information from Silver? So, he must've known what Jack did not. What else do you know about it?"

He looked at her, the effects of the strong drink beginning to wear off. "This is no topic to be discussing with you, Miss Quartermaine."

"Call me Camille. And if you have failed to notice by now, I am no lady," she said tiredly. "You need to tell me as much as you can about this Devil's Dowry."

"Is it not enough to know that the man possessing it is putting everyone under this roof in very real danger?"

"We have indeed figured that part out. But is there anything else that Long John said about it, can you remember?" she urged.

"He never gave us information willingly. The only way we knew anything was when he would mumble to himself about it, or toy with his key, or sing songs that pertained to any treasure. And might I add, many of us were and to this day are highly uninterested in any sort of dealings with pirates."

"Which is why your presence now is so greatly appreciated," Camille said, wiping the snobbish look off Norrington's face. "I know that Jack will be very rude, possibly even in denial at first about this information. But this is a very big deal to all of us. Now at least we have one more piece to the puzzle."

"What do y-"

Jack opened the door to the dining room, looking at the two cautiously. "There you are, Camille. Are you still here?" he said, addressing James.

"Jack, please don't be rude to our guest," Camille warned.

"I will be rude to any man who secludes himself with my woman," Jack said without changing the intonation of his voice.

"I am so sorry," she whispered to James, looking at Jack. "Captain, may I please have a word with you?" She nodded to James as he excused himself.

"What is the meaning of this? If I didn't know any better I'd think you fancied him," Jack said accusingly.

"Jack, you are not convincing me that you are worthy of hearing what I am about to tell you. Stop accusing me of being disloyal," she said fiercely. "James has just entrusted to me something that you will find rather important."

"Like what?"

"The Devil's Dowry. That's the name of the mark."

He looked at her angrily. "Norrington bloody knew that? How?" he demanded.

"Because Silver knew it. It was overheard by him."

Jack's expression hardened. "Does he even know it to be the truth?"

"Why would he lie to me about that? What purpose does he have to lie? It's not as if he's after the treasure himself."

"Don't ever make assumptions like that," he said sternly. "Anyone can betray you, you must learn that."

"Oh Jack, that is rubbish and I refuse to accept it! James was telling the truth, luckily for us because he saw _your_ mark!"

Jack stopped. "My mark?"

"Yes, when you leaned over to get the wine some light from the candles shone on your arm. We should be thanking him."

"Thanking him? I could've found that out eventually."

"Yes, but isn't it just a bit more convenient that you've found it out now?" she asked patiently. Anger never went anywhere when it came to her arguments with Jack. It all came down to being calm and logical, which was very hard when he insisted on constantly accusing everyone except himself for treachery. "Think about it, Jack. James has had contact with many pirates. He could help us."

"I don't need his help, Camille."

"But he is no longer a threat to you. This could benefit you, and we need all the help we can get this time."

"We do not," Jack replied stubbornly.

"The more we know, the sooner we can sail to Colombia."

Jack contemplated this, deciding that she was right. She watched the process take place, being so used to it. "Do we have an accord, Captain?"


	13. The Mystery of Pain

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a poem by Emily Dickinson.

Chapter 13: The Mystery of Pain

"It is in Colombia, and that is exactly where we are headed," Jack calmly explained to James. They sat in the kitchen, as the women did the dishes.

"How do you know it is in Colombia?" James inquired.

"That's exactly what I'd like to know, as well," Ana Maria joined in, looking a bit frustrated.

"Are you questioning me?" Jack asked haughtily. "Are you _skeptical_? I might've expected this from you, but Ana Maria?" he asked.

Ana turned around. "Jack, there's somethin' you're not tellin' me. I'm no fool, so you best not be treatin' me like one."

Jack drummed his fingers impatiently on the table. It would be difficult to try and explain this one. "Well, I do have a map," he said simply. Camille scrubbed the dishes harder than ever.

"A map that mysteriously appeared just as the mark did?" Ana Maria asked. She and Camille were two of the few people who had permission to access most of the Captain's maps. And as far as she'd known, there was no map with anything about a Devil's Dowry on it.

"No Ana Maria, just because the mark has a name does not mean that the point on the map is called such," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Camille turned around, wiping her hair out of her face. "I've got to go sit down. I can't breathe," she said, gasping.

"Darling, are you all right?" Jack said, suddenly aware that Camille was in great distress and it wasn't an act to draw the suspicions away from him. He stood up just in time to catch her from hitting the floor.

Ana Maria dropped the rag she was holding, and gasped. "Call the doctor!" she said as James stood up and rushed over.

"Now, there's no need to panic," Jack said calmly, checking her vitals. "She's simply passed out. It's probably due to her corset," he said, taking her in his arms. "Ana Maria, could you prepare her bed for me?" he asked.

She nodded, scurrying out of the kitchen and up the stairs. "Aye, Captain!" she called. When she got to Camille's room, she called for Gretchen. There was no reply, as Jack came in and placed Camille on the bed. She growled. "That woman is trying my patience. I can't get these clothes off myself."

Jack closed the door. "Not to worry. I know my way into and out of a woman's undergarments," he said very seriously. They both began to quickly undress her, and as Jack took the dress off Ana Maria worked on loosening the rest of the layers. But there was no corset to be found. "Jack, she's not wearing a corset."

Camille's breathing wasn't returning to normal. Jack joined Ana Maria in searching for anything around her upper body that was tight or restricting. He looked over Camille's body. "Something's not right, she looks like she's in pain. I think we may need a doctor after all," he told Ana Maria. She nodded, leaving the room. He could hear her speaking to James, and shortly after the front door opened and closed.

Ana returned. "Mr. Norrington has gone to call on a doctor. Have you figured out what's wrong with her?"

"Aye," Jack replied as Ana Maria got nearer. Camille had a large bruise just beneath her left breast. She was nearly completely stripped of her underthings, and Jack put the covers gently over her. "Looks to be a broken rib."

Ana Maria made a face, putting her hand to her own ribs. "But what caused it if not a corset? Perhaps it's from a previous day?"

Jack lifted the covers again, fingering gently around the blackish blue mark. "Possibly, but it looks fairly new. Look," he said, showing her.

She nodded. "It looks as if someone hit her. Maybe she fell," Ana Maria suggested, dismissing the thought of anybody abusing Camille.

"Seems likely," Jack said. He was a bit worried, but it was really nothing new for a woman to have bruised or broken ribs from the apparel they wore. He waited out in the main room patiently with Ana Maria, and Will came down from putting Cadence to sleep in a few minutes to see James and the doctor come in. Ana Maria sprang up, showing the doctor where Camille's room was.

"What's going on?" Will demanded, frowning.

"William, calm yourself. Camille's simply got a broken rib or two is all," Jack explained calmly.

"A broken rib? How did she get that?" he asked, not calming down.

"Most likely a corset that was too tight." Even though Jack hadn't seen a corset, he'd assumed that Camille had worn it for a couple of hours and then taken it off. He knew she could barely stand wearing them for extended periods of time.

"How can you not be the least bit worried about her condition?" James asked.

"Camille is a very strong woman; it's not going to kill her. Besides, it does no good to panic, does it now?" Jack replied casually.

The doctor was down in no less than half an hour, with his little medical bag. He looked extremely bored, and spoke to the three anxious men without any excitement in his voice whatsoever. "Two broken ribs," he explained. "Though from the looks of it, they have been cracked for quite some time. No doubt unable to correctly heal because of the impending pressure of the young lady's corsets. As this is the second time, she's going to need to be confined to bed for twice as long."

"Second time?" Will asked. "When was the first one?"

"I don't know that gentlemen, I assumed one of you did. Anyhow, it appears to me that the bones never did knit together right, and were very easily breakable to begin with."

"Her ribs have been broken before?" Jack demanded. "How?"

"My guess is that somebody broke them. Probably a man," the doctor drawled on. "If the lady is still in pain in a week I shall need to submit her to the hospital for another examination. Good evening, gentlemen."

"Thank you, Doctor," James said, shaking his hand.

Jack was now standing, frowning with his arms crossed in front of his chest and stroking his split beard. "They were broken before, by a man…" he pondered.

"I thought you went out of your way to protect her from physical danger when she was your hostage," Will asked.

"I did, mate. She didn't receive that injury when she was with me," he said, thinking about the past year. "Long John…no, she wasn't injured when we dropped the…Thatchers!" he said, making his way up the staircase.


	14. He Thinks of Those

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. The long title is a poem by W. B. Yeats.

Chapter 14: He Thinks of Those Who Have Spoken Evil of His Beloved

He pounded on Gabriel's door. "Mr. Thatcher, I would like to have a word with you!"

Gabriel opened his door and saw three men staring at him accusingly. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"Have you ever hurt Camille?" Jack asked. Will looked like he wanted to say something, but he held back.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at Jack. "What are you talking about, of course not! I would never hurt her!" he said defensively.

Jack sighed heavily. "I should have never captured her, I knew it was folly to let her alone in the Fuego," he began berating himself.

"Wait, is she injured?" Gabriel asked.

Will nodded. "The doctor just left. He said that she has two broken ribs that have previously been broken and not healed correctly."

Gabriel's eyes widened. "Father," he said suddenly, remembering the time Maximilian had beaten the both of them. "Oh God, is she all right?"

"Why did you say 'father'?" Will asked, looking nervously at Jack.

Gabriel swallowed, taking a deep breath. "There was…there was this one time when my father beat her-"

"You bastard!" Jack roared, rushing towards Gabriel with his sword out. Will and James held him back as Gabriel tried to loosen himself from Jack's grip, kicking him away as he fell to the ground. "You let him hit her!"

"There was nothing I could do!" he protested, finally getting his hand on a pistol and cocking it.

Jack didn't flinch. "That pistol doesn't scare me, boy. If you shoot at me, you'll just ignite the flame ever further," he threatened. Will and James were still holding him.

"Are you going to listen to me?" Gabriel asked, still pointing the pistol at Jack. "I couldn't stop him. I tried, but he was much stronger than I."

"What's going on, what is this?" Gretchen appeared in the doorway in her nightgown, and Ana Maria was right behind her. Priscilla was also peering in.

"YOU!" Jack shouted, turning around and pointing at Gretchen. His sword was still out in his other hand. "Your father hit Camille!" he said, and again he needed James and Will to hold him back.

Gretchen screamed as he started towards her and backed up against the wall.

"What?" Ana Maria asked, looking from her to Gabriel. "He hit Camille?" she demanded, looking at Jack for reassurance. He nodded ferociously.

"No!" Gretchen exclaimed. "No, my father was a good man!" she yelled. "He would never do such a thing, you filthy pirate!"

"He hit her, Gretchen!" Gabriel yelled, putting the pistol away. "You saw him take her out back to whip her, you can't deny that."

"He did not!" Gretchen shrieked, tears streaming down her face.

"You watched him whip her!" Jack bellowed to the two of them. "You watched, and you did NOTHING!"

"Jack, get ahold of yourself!" Will cried, trying his best with James to constrain the frenzied captain. "There was nothing they could do, he already explained that!"

"Stop it!" Gretchen cried. "Don't talk about my father that way!"

Priscilla was still hiding just behind the doorway, and when Jack noticed he relaxed his muscles. James and Will hesitantly let him go as he stormed out of the room and down the opposite wing of the house.

He knocked gently on the door and pushed it open. Camille was sitting up in bed with pillows surrounding her, and an open book on her lap. "My God Jack, what was all that yelling about?" she asked. She looked perkier than she had been, and some color was returned to her face.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jack asked, moving to the bed. He moved the book and sat down, taking her hands in his. "Maximilian hit you."

She breathed in sharply. "I never wanted to talk about that with you or anyone," she said quietly. "How did you find out?"

"Gabriel," he said hotly.

"Jack, do not be hostile towards the Thatchers. They were all scared to death of him, and now he is dead. He was a truly dreadful man."

"Camille, he hit you. No man should ever hit a woman."

"Jack, Gabriel tried to stop him. Maximilian threw him so hard that he lost consciousness. He is such a sweet man, he would never let anyone lay a finger on me."

He leaned over and kissed her. "I certainly hope so. You need your rest, darling. I promise I will discontinue my ranting until you are feeling better."

She sighed, wincing a little at the pain. "Thank you, Jack. Good night."

"G'night, love."

Annie was doing her duties the next week, and was a bit surprised to hear a lot of noise coming from Camille's room. At first she blushed an unusually deep shade of red, being embarrassed at Camille and Jack for being intimate at such an hour. Then she recognized her own dear Sheila's voice.

Making her way upstairs, she found Priscilla, Cadence and Sheila all sitting on Camille's bed, talking animatedly with one another.

"Children!" Annie barked, causing them all to shut up immediately. "Miss Camille needs her rest!"

"Oh no, Annie, they're fine," Camille insisted. "They can stay as long as they like."

Annie kept her hands on her hips, and the three young ladies reluctantly got off the bed and filed out of the room in a straight line, with Cadence stumbling in the rear.

"Annie, that's really not necessary."

"I came at the captain's request," said Annie obligingly.

Camille sighed and laid back against her pillows. "He's been treating me as if I were a porcelain doll for the past week. The last thing I need is for you to start as well. You know just as much as I do that women are resilient."

At this comment, Annie couldn't help but grin. "Don't you go and let that slip to the men, ya hear me?"

Camille nodded. "I wouldn't dream of it," she said as she pushed the covers aside and got to her feet. Annie's eyes widened, but Camille stood on her tiptoes and stretched. "Oh, it feels so good to stand!" she exulted.

"Are ya still sore?"


	15. The Dead Woman

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a poem by Pablo Neruda.

Chapter 15: The Dead Woman

Camille tested herself, touching her rib gingerly, then a little rougher. "Well, it doesn't hurt when I touch it. I supposed that's good enough, then?"

Annie eyed her cautiously. "I dunno, Camille. Jack's pretty angry with Master Gabriel and the Thatchers. He's been stormin' through the house like tyrant, still."

"Well," said Camille, putting on her robe. "That's just ridiculous. What happened to me was merely a result of chance, and nothing more. The Thatchers could not possibly be in any way responsible for their father's treatment of me, especially since they were barely present."

She waltzed out of the room with Annie just behind her. The house looked so much more pleasant, and it was very clean. She supposed that Annie and Ana Maria had been cleaning nonstop to either appease or avoid Jack's anger. And knowing the two of them, it was most likely to avoid it. The place was unusually quiet.

Priscilla and Sheila were doing some handiwork, and Cadence was with Ana Maria. But something was missing from the atmosphere of the house. "Where have all of the men gone?" she asked, afraid to know the answer.

"Drinkin'," Ana Maria joked.

"Oh, with Peter they had better not be," Annie said crossly.

"So where is Gretchen?"

Annie rolled her eyes. "The woman's been up in her room all day, pouting about some rash or something on her arm. She's unbearable, that one is," she said, lowering her voice in front of Priscilla. But Priscilla heard Annie perfectly clear, and nodded.

"She's always been like that, you know. Ever since Father died, it's gotten worse. Gabriel says that it's her way of repressing it, pretending that she's still so important to society," Priscilla said.

"Perhaps I'd better see if I can talk to her," Camille excused herself, going back upstairs to the wing Gretchen was staying in. She knocked gently on her door, and a shaky voice answered from within.

"Go away, I wish to see no one."

"Gretchen darling, you can't stay in there forever. What's this about something on your arm?" Camille asked.

"Leave me alone!"

"Nonsense," Camille replied, picking the lock easily and making her way inside. Gretchen was lying on her bed, crying into the pillow.

"Gretchen, what's wrong? You can tell me, come now." Camille sat down at the end of the bed and waited until Gretchen was able to pull herself together. She even had a handkerchief ready so that Gretchen could wipe her eyes.

"I found something…it-it's on my arm, I saw it just last night. But now it's disappeared. I don't know what it is, it looked like a black mark or some sort of skin disease…" Gretchen trailed off and started crying again.

"Gretchen, stop crying," Camille said firmly. "Now take a deep breath, and try to remember exactly when you saw it. What was happening? Were you near the fireplace, or lighting a candle, or something like that?"

"I can't remember. I just noticed it for a second and then it was gone. It was as if my eyes were playing tricks on me."

"All right, then. Gretchen, I need you to remain calm. I'm going to show you something, and you have to trust me."

Gretchen shook her head. "No," she stammered. "No, I don't want to see. It's something to do with that pirate, I know it. I refuse to have anything to do with that, I am in too high a position for this sort of nonsense," she ranted.

"Gretchen, listen to me. You're in the same position that the rest of us are that found that treasure a thirteenmonth ago-"

"Stop it!" Gretchen shrieked, clapping her hands to her ears. "Stop talking about it, I don't want to hear your lies! Get out of my room! Get out!"

Camille stood up, surprised at how much Gretchen was affected by this subject. She left the room immediately, slamming the door right behind her. Obviously convincing Gretchen was going to be a very tireless effort.

"Camille?"

She became alert, and then breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, Gabriel? I didn't expect that you were here."

"You tried to explain to her, didn't you?"

She nodded. "I think I upset her quite a bit."

Gabriel nodded. "I've tried dozens of times to gently coax her into hearing it. I've also resorted to shouting myself hoarse to her about it. Nothing will work; she is in total denial about the situation."

"But that is most unfortunate for us if she is part of the curse," Camille whispered.

He nodded. "I agree, but I think it may be best if we leave her behind with Priscilla. The solution may be just to keep her away from matters of piracy altogether."

"Do you really believe that will work? Leaving her behind? She would drive everyone mad, Gabriel."

He laughed. "That's the only part that worries me. She's going to have to straighten out her behavior sooner or later."

"Yes, I suppose she is."

"How are you feeling, Camille? You look much better, and the color has returned to your cheeks. You seem to have little difficulty carrying on a conversation," he observed.

"Yes, I'm feeling much better, thank you. I suppose I had best get myself to bed before Jack arrives home, though."

"Perhaps. He is very concerned about you. I don't think he's talked to me since."

Camille sighed. "He can be most childish like that sometimes. He doesn't know when to let go of grudges. I'll work on him. He has absolutely no reason to be cross with you."


	16. nobody loses all the time

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a poem by e. e. cummings.

Chapter 16: nobody loses all the time

When she went to bed that night and couldn't stop dreaming about that stupid mark. She had several different dreams pertaining to it. In some it moved, and in some it just grew hotter and hotter until it practically burned all of the flesh off her arm.

She sat up, feeling panicky. She took a few moments to recover herself, and realized that her arm hurt. She rolled the sleeve up slowly, but there was nothing there. It was just her imagination. But something wasn't right.

She tiptoed out of her room, peering down the hallway. The dreams had been so vivid…and the more she thought about the Devil's Dowry, the more terrified she became.

She took a deep breath outside Jack's door before knocking. There was nothing unusual about his husky voice inviting her in, but when she opened the door and saw him something didn't fit. Jack was sitting there, looking quite comfortable, in an armchair. "Jack, is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine, darling. Shut the door," he requested.

She obeyed, and the moment she did she could feel the icy blade of a cutlass against her throat. She stiffened, feeling somebody's hot breath on the nape of her neck at the same time.

She could hear Jack behind her. "Are you satisfied, Gerudo? I've led you straight to the girl," he said tiredly. _Oh, not this again,_ she thought.

She was not able to get a good look at her captor, but by moving her head slightly she could see that he did have a pistol on him. She sighed. "I can't believe you would do this to me again Sparrow, you rotten bastard!" she exclaimed, hoping that all she had to do was play along for now.

He rolled his eyes. "Love, you should know by now to have lowered your expectations for me. What did you think was going to happen? We are talking fortunes here."

"You have black heart, did you know that?"  
Jack grinned. "Aye."

While Jack and Camille were arguing, Gerudo had relaxed his grip on her slightly. She took this opportunity to grab his pistol from him and break free from his grip. She turned around, pointing it at him. "I want you to remember this the next time you think about carving up some innocent-looking woman."

His eyes widened. "It's you!" he cried. "The Red Rogue!"

Camille blinked, trying to hide her faint blushing. "Are there stories about me?"

Gerudo nodded. "They say that you can overtake nations, and have all men bowing to you with a flick of your wrist. You are the most deadly, most gorgeous, most seductive pirate wench of the seas."

Camille grinned. "Well I supposed I _do_ rule with an iron fist on occasion…"

Jack remained very quiet, and the two of the nearly forgot about his presence in the room. Camille was still very flattered by Gerudo's words to her, but she held the gun steady. "What else have you heard?"

"Only more terrifying stories, Miss Quartermaine."

"So you know my real name."

He nodded. "Aye." She could see him inching back a little, trying to prepare to strike her at some point. She did the footwork, letting him near the door a bit. When he tried to run for it, she shot him in the foot.

He howled, staggering about as she held him steady. "How do you know where this place is?" she demanded.

"We all do," he said. "The Mark, it calls to us."

"The Mark? What mark?"

He flung her off. "You know damn well what mark I'm talkin' about, the Devil's Dowry!"

"So how many more of you are there?"

"Hundreds," he hissed. "Maybe even thousands. They'll find you, there's no escapin' as long as you bear the mark. You'll carry it to hell and back."

She could hear footsteps coming. No doubt the shot had been heard. She held the gun and cocked it. "Jack?" she inquired.

"He's told us all he knows. Kill him."

She held her breath, looking away right after she shot Gerudo in the head. Jack rushed to help her prop his corpse against the wall so it would be hidden from anyone who happened to stand in the doorway.

She stood up, putting the pistol with the remaining shots in her garter. "Sometimes I really do question whose side you're on," she admitted to Jack.

He waved his hand. "Even a man daft as I am would know not to get on your bad side, Red Rogue."

She smiled at the name. "A real pirate name. It's very exciting," she gushed.

"You know this means that you're officially one of us now. It's very difficult to turn back to Miss Camille Quartermaine. Impressive interrogation, by the bye."

She straightened out her skirt. "You were testing me!" she realized angrily. "Jack, that wasn't a game! I could've been hurt!"

"Unlikely," the captain said, swaggering over and putting his hat on one of the bedposts. "D'you honestly think I would for a second let _him_ harm you?"

A knock at the door, and Camille went to answer it. "He was an idiot, wasn't he?"

Jack nodded as Will came in. "What is going on in here? I heard two gunshots sound!"

"We were just getting a bit rough is all," Jack replied casually. Camille couldn't help but laugh out loud, and Will looked at them both reproachfully. Then, as luck would have it, Gerudo's body fell over, causing Camille to shriek. His head hit the floor with a sickening sound, and a little bit of blood spilled out over the carpet.

Will looked at the scene, knowing enough the shut the door and lock it. Camille bit her lip. They would have to tell him now. She sat down on the bed and glanced over at Jack, who was extremely hard to read. He held his composure, of course, as he took off his jacket and proceeded to hang it in the closet while Will found the right questions to ask.

"You know what I am going to ask you," he said darkly. Jack looked at him, hesitating for a moment.

"I don't think we are safe in this house any longer," Camille intervened.

"But why aren't we? Why is there a dead pirate on the floor? And why do the two of you look so extremely stricken with guilt? That's what I would like to know, if it's not too much trouble," Will continued in an annoyed but fairly calm tone.

Camille stayed silent. She would have told Will everything in a heartbeat if it weren't for Jack. She looked at the two of them, wanting something to be said in that room full of silence. The first rays of light were just starting to show up outside, and she looked away as some light hit Gerudo's oozing head.

"Look mate, I can't get you involved in this. You don't want to know about this, I can assure you," Jack tried to hint to him.

"If I didn't want to be involved, I wouldn't have opened the door in the first place. I'm not the only one in this house who heard the gun," Will stated.

But Jack stood his ground. "No. You don't need this, William."

"And how am I to explain this?" Will asked, gesturing towards Gerudo's body. "You're taking me and everyone here for a fool, Jack! And what's even worse you are risking our very lives! When I let you and Camille into this house I expected that you would change your ways, at least for the time being, and at least for the sake of the children!" he ended up bellowing in a very angry Jack-like tone. Camille wanted to melt underneath the bedsheets.

"Did you really think that a man like me could change?" Jack asked, not seeming upset by this at all.

"Perhaps I am a fool, because I thought that you could," Will said before slamming the door shut. It echoed harshly throughout the room. Camille didn't want to look at Jack. She wanted to follow Will and be out of the room. The change, in her mind, from lady to pirate had come on rather abruptly in the past hour. And there was still the issue of moving the body.


	17. Fire and Ice

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is an awesome poem by Robert Frost.

Chapter 17: Fire and Ice

The argument between Jack and Will was at its very peak. There had been an unbelievable tension between the two ever since Jack's "whim" to go to Colombia, which had not fooled Will for one second. Will announced early that day that he would be moving back to Port Royale with Cadence and that Annie, the children, and the Thatchers were more than welcome to accompany him as the Quartermaine estate "was in danger of being plagued by watchful eyes".

This said, arguments broke out everywhere. The only neutral parties were Cadence, who was too young to understand anything but all the anger, and Camille, who sat silently through all of this. Jack and Ana Maria were by no means civil about anything that was exchanged, and nearly got into a fistfight over it. Gabriel sided with Jack, Gretchen with Will and Ana Maria, and even Priscilla was getting into it. Annie was all for going to Port Royale to get Peter and Sheila out of any harm's way, but was torn between Jack, whom she had come to admire very much since the passing of Master Quartermaine. Peter, of course, wanted to go with Jack, and poor little Sheila was torn between her mother and brother.

Nobody even noticed that Camille had slipped away outback with Cadence, and the two sat among the gardens now. "I don't like all of this fighting," Camille said.

Cadence was wandering among the flowers. "Daddy says no fighting," she said, bringing Camille a small flower.

She smiled. "Thank you, darling." _I can't be…I don't feel like a pirate. I can't possibly be a pirate. I killed a man, but I've killed men before in self defense. He was a threat to me…_In her head she was trying to rationalize her actions.

"Cadence! Cadence, where are you?" It was Will; he was walking up to the gardens. As Cadence ran to him, he knelt down to pick her up. "We are leaving, to Port Royale. A coach is going to be here very soon," he told her.

Camille sighed. She had to say something. "Will, please don't go away angry."

"And how am I supposed to leave, Camille?" he exploded, holding onto his daughter tightly. "Shall I pretend that things are exactly as they were before this morning?"

"He's only trying to protect you. This is very serious, he doesn't want to put you at risk."

"So instead the both of you choose to shut me out completely from giving any sort of help at all? Fine course of action," he barked sarcastically, turning around and exiting the gardens.

"Jack doesn't have many people that are close to him, Will," she said, choosing her words carefully. "He's got you, and Ana Maria and perhaps Gibbs. But other than that-"

"And now he's got you. Perhaps you'll always be there to soothe his broken ego when he's lost everything."

At this, Camille stopped. She watched Will and Cadence walking away. Every nerve ending in her body was telling her to just confide in him, even if it did mean putting him at risk. Jack's reasoning couldn't be her basis for every decision she made from now on.

She ran up to him, pulling him close and turning him around to face her. "It's the Devil's Dowry," she said in a low voice.

His eyes widened. "The Mark?"

She nodded. "Yes, we all have it. All of us who were on The Rune. We accidentally kept a piece of the treasure."

"And by saying 'we' you mean Jack?"

"He didn't want to tell you, he doesn't want anyone else involved. Gretchen and Priscilla don't even know. We don't know how to tell them."

"But Ana Maria knows. She kept trying to hit Jack, and she kept saying that it was his stupid greed that had gotten him into this. You could tell her about the Mark," Will accused angrily.

"She was there, and she saw it! She happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Will, I wanted to tell you and it killed me not to."

"But you didn't. Because Jack didn't want you to," he said coldly.

"Well, I am telling you now. And don't credit Jack with everything that I do." She put her hands over Cadence's ears for the next sentence. "Just because I'm sleeping with him does not mean he owns me or my conscience," she said fiercely.

"Yes, fine. So what did that man have to do with anything?"

"He said that the Mark was calling to 'them'. It can't be a good sign. We've got to leave for Colombia as soon as possible, which is probably today," she informed him.

"You and the Thatchers?"

She nodded. "Aye. All of us who were with Silver and the treasure."

"And who's going to protect you?"

She looked at him, dumbfounded for a moment. "No. Will, no," she said sternly, pointing a finger at him. "There is absolutely no way in hell you are coming. You are staying behind. What if the house gets attacked again?"

"It won't. The only ones being hunted are the five of you. Cadence would be fine, and so would Annie and the children. And the way things are looking, most likely Ana Maria would be staying behind as well."

"Will, you can't."

"And how do you plan on stopping me?" he said defiantly.

She threw her arms around him, beginning to sob. "Please don't go!" she begged him. "Please, I couldn't bear to lose you."

He held her with his free arm as Cadence hugged her as well. She could feel Will calm down. "All right, I'll stay," he said gently. "But if I get the slightest suspicion that something has-"

"Get your hands off her," Jack said rudely. He was standing just outside. She pulled back to see what was going on and he took her arm. "We're boarding the _Pearl_."

"Now? Jack, wait…" Camille said. She loosened herself from his grip. "You're not leaving Port Celebros a raging volcano like this. The two of you," she said, gesturing to the both of them, "are going to stop bickering like little boys and be men about this disagreement. Savvy?"

"I have nothing to say," Jack said stubbornly. Will rolled his eyes.

"He knows about the Mark," Camille said, causing Jack's anger to reflect onto her now.


	18. The Coming of His Feet

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a poem by Lyman W. Allen.

Chapter 18: The Coming of His Feet

"I knew you'd go soft on him," he said bitterly.

But his biting remark didn't affect Camille for an instant. "There's nothing soft about a strong friendship, Jack. I don't want you to forget that," she said, gently touching his arm. She leaned forward and gave Will another hug. "Goodbye, Will."

"Be careful."

"I will. Goodbye, darling," she said, giving Cadence a kiss. She went back into the house, where there was much commotion going on inside. Gabriel was descending the staircase with bags, and Priscilla was helping him as best she could. Gretchen of course, was pouting. She was sitting on the sofa, and the only one not doing something.

"Gretchen, you are coming with us, are you not?" Camille posed.

"I certainly am not. The sea is no place for a lady like me," Gretchen replied, with tears on her face.

"I think that one way or another, you're going to find yourself on that ship," Camille said apologetically as she climbed the stairs. On the way to her bedroom she nearly ran into Ana Maria. She noticed that Ana was not wearing nice clothes, either, but her old dress. "Are you coming with us?"

"Of course I am, I can't afford to let Jack screw this up. The man's on the verge of goin' mad!" Ana Maria exclaimed.

Camille grinned as she quickly changed and packed up her things. They were in the middle of saying goodbye to Annie and the children when Jack burst in and continued stomping through the house. Obviously he and Will had not been able to reach a compromise.

"What is everyone still doing here, there is a deck in extreme need of attention!" he shouted. "We are sailing for Colombia in exactly half an hour's time, and if you are not on the _Pearl_ you will find a worse fate!"

Gabriel looked up from the mountain of suitcases he was taking out to the coach, and Ana Maria continued her goodbyes, but the rest scurried around even faster.

Gretchen stood up, her arms crossed. "I am not going, Captain. I refuse t--"

"Miss Thatcher, I am in absolutely no mood to hear your bitching, you dastardly excuse for a woman! Now GET ON MY SHIP!" he roared.

Gretchen's eyes went wide. She shut her mouth, picked up her suitcases, and almost literally flew out the door. Camille followed not far behind her. She could still clearly remember the time that Jack had berated her, and wanted no part of his stormy mood. And speaking of stormy, the clouds above didn't look too friendly. Especially toward the water.

Gabriel came down next, carrying most of Gretchen's luggage and loading it onto the coach. "He's going to get us killed, setting sail in this weather."

"With any luck, he will be at ease merely being anchored on the _Pearl_," Camille hoped. "But how are we going to set out with the six of us?"

"We spent most of the day yesterday looking for sailors. It wasn't an easy task."

"Ah."

Gretchen was ready to walk all the way, she was so terrified from Jack's explosion. Camille looked back to make sure that Jack was at least civil to Annie, Peter, and Sheila, who he had absolutely no reason to have quarrels with. She could see him storming out the door, not even bothering to look back.

Camille smiled and waved at the three of them. She looked back to see Gretchen in the first coach. Ana Maria was next. She explained heatedly that there was no way she would ride with Jack, and in an undertone, that this would be a rare moment where she would be able to tolerate Gretchen. Gabriel was neutral for the most part.

"Priscilla, why don't you ride with Jack and me?" Camille suggested. "Perhaps it would brighten his mood if you asked him questions about sailing, and I think that you would be more appropriate than your sister."

"I should think so," Priscilla said, lifting her nose a little as she got into the coach. She peeked out as Camille got in. Jack was coming closer. "Is he always like this when he is mad?"

"Yes," Camille admitted. "He has about as much trouble managing his anger as your sister does managing her attitude."

Priscilla made a face. "Oh, I see."

Jack didn't look at either one of them. Camille thought for a moment, looking at Priscilla. But the girl just shrugged. Their plan had backfired. "So, have you ever been on a ship before? Besides on the way from the Fuego, I mean," Camille said.

"Not really, though I did venture out on a small raft once when I was younger. That got me in quite a bit of trouble."

Camille laughed. "When we get to the _Pearl_, I'll show you my favorite spot to sit and watch the stars. You don't get seasick, do you?"

"No, but Gretchen does something awful. She'll probably look like a corpse during the first few days."

"She'll adapt. When I began sailing, I remember how the nausea felt. It was awful. Perhaps I'll teach you cards as well," she suggested.

"That would be wonderful! Than I would have something to do while the rest of the ship was out drinking and sleeping with numerous women."

At this, Jack couldn't help but chuckle. Camille looked at him. "Did you tell her that?"

"No, it was Gabriel," Priscilla said.

"And how would he know that, I wonder?"

"He told me that you told him when you…"

Camille's face blushed when Priscilla trailed off. She shook her head, hoping that Jack would not look up.

"…were at our house, at the dinner party," Priscilla finished gracefully. What a clever girl. Camille breathed a sigh of relief before she felt a few drops on her arm and face.

"Oh," she said disappointedly. "It looks as if a storm is headed our way. Are we going to set sail through this weather, Captain?" she asked, addressing him for the first time in the duration of the ride. One look from him, and she cleared her throat. "I suppose we'll just have to buckle down, then," she said cheerfully.


	19. Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a poem by Dylan Thomas.

A/N: So, who's seen the preview for POTC 2? What's up with Jack having a mark on him? That was my idea! Lol. Well anyway, now that it's coming out in July I've got a deadline to make so that people don't get confused as to which movie I'm making a sequel to.

Chapter 19: Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night

"We'll wait until it's over. I don't want a bunch of sick women on my ship," Jack said, taking his hat off and scratching beneath the bandana.

"Your patience with us is much appreciated. Captain," Priscilla added.

"Young lady, your manners will be a blessing compared with being able to put up with your sister," Jack complimented. Priscilla just smiled, and Camille thought she could see a faint pink blush on her cheeks through the rain.

Jack pressed his hat onto her head. "Have you ever ridden on horseback, Camille?"

"No," she replied, wondering where the question had come from.

"Well I think it may be the time for you to learn."

She looked out through the rain carefully, following his gaze. She could see torches far off, and her jaw dropped. "Oh, my God."

Priscilla turned around and looked. "I've ridden one," she said, turning around to face them. "It's quite simple, really."

"Good," Jack said, standing up. "Ana Maria!" he called out to the coach that was in front of him. She leaned out and nodded. "Miss Thatcher, you go with Camille."

"Right," said Priscilla, climbing up.

"When you get on, cut anything that is connecting you to the coach," Jack instructed them. "Go, now!"

Camille leapt down, landing a bit painfully on one of the horses. Priscilla followed, and she sat right in front. She took the reins while Camille cut the thoroughbrace. Jack did the same, much quicker, and instructed them to head for the _Pearl._

It was very hard to see through the rain, and the ride was terrifying. Camille kept looking behind, seeing how close the rest of the horsemen were. Jack had disappeared, and all she could see was the horse that carried Gabriel and Gretchen quite a ways in front of them. The rain was coming down very hard now, and Priscilla was having trouble guiding the horse because it was becoming muddy and slippery out.

Priscilla screamed when a bullet whizzed past them. "It's all right," Camille assured her, taking Gerudo's old pistol out and aiming carefully behind them. She was able to unhorse at least one man.

That was all the trouble they had before taking a shortcut through the woods. The horses couldn't run as fast, but they managed to lose whoever was following them. Finally, they reached the _Pearl._ It looked like they were the first ones, so they dismounted and sent the horse on its way.

The two ladies made it below deck, soaked. Priscilla seemed to stiffen a little, but Camille assured her that it would be okay as they neared the noise. Mr. Gibbs greeted them, drunk as usual. But it was a warm greeting. The two sat down in blankets and waited for the others, a bit impatiently. Camille looked around. There were a lot of new faces, and some of them were very young. She didn't have time to feel sympathy for them.

"Someone's been shot! Is there a ship's doctor among us?" a voice rang out, causing the crew to stir.

Camille stood up. "Stay here, Priscilla," she commanded before making her way on deck. She squinted though the rain, and sure enough there were Gretchen and Gabriel and a third man, coming towards the _Pearl_ in a rowboat. Gabriel had been wounded.

Some of the crew were wandering on deck and were beginning to point out that some of the men with torches were on the shore. Obviously they were less safe than had been assumed. Camille stood on a barrel.

"Gentlemen!" she roared in a tone that she had only learned from Jack, "Weapons at the ready! Get to your stations! You!" she cried, pointing at one of them. "Bring me a belt, a bucket of water, and a pair of tweezers."

"Salt water or freshwater?" the sailor asked.

"I don't care if you have to piss in a bucket, bring me something to clean a gunshot wound!" she hollered, getting down off the bucket. "Amateurs," she muttered as they hoisted the boat up.

"Get him to the captain's cabin!" she commanded.

The man she was bossing around was a big, burly man with too many piercings AND too many tattoos. He leered at her. "Nobody's got permission to access the captain's cabin 'cept the captain heself."

"Do it, or I'm tossin' you back to shore with one less limb! And I don't mean an arm or a leg!" she threatened.

His eyes widened in surprise. Then he picked up Gabriel, mumbling something like "how unladylike" and took him inside Jack's cabin. Camille had no time to reminisce about how good it felt to be in there again. Gretchen was hovering about, panicking as Gabriel was placed on the large dining table.

"Gretchen, go down below deck and stay with Priscilla," Camille said calmly. "And you, Mr…"

"Noyes," he said in deep voice.

"Mr. Noyes, I'll need you to help me hold down his body-" a window to the cabin was broken and she excused herself.

"What the bloody hell is going on out here?" she demanded. "Do you boys need a nanny to watch over you? Grow a backbone, for God's sake!"

She ran back to Gabriel and leapt on the table, kneeling. The man came in with her tools, and she thanked him. "All right, Mr. Noyes I'll need you to hold him steady. Gabriel, shh," she said, changing the tone of her voice completely. "Don't worry, you're going to be just fine."

She unbuttoned his bloodstained shirt, revealing a huge gash across his chest. She could also see the bullet wound near the lower abdomen. "I need to get this musketball out of you first. This is going to sting just a bit, I'm going to clean it out first."

Gabriel nodded. He didn't thrash around much, and didn't make much noise either. Camille gently rinsed it, dropping the cloth back in the bucket as she climbed back on the table and knelt next to him. "All right, then. Mr. Noyes, could you please light a candle or two and bring them to me?"

Noyes nodded. "Yes'm."

She took it. "Thank you. Now this may hurt quite a bit. That's why we have this," she said, sticking it between Gabriel's teeth. Bite down on it when you feel pain. I'll make this as quick as possible. And don't worry, I've done this before," she assured him.


	20. A Woman's Shortcomings

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Chapter 20: A Woman's Shortcomings

It was a painstaking process, since she could not find the lead ball at first. The three of them were becoming increasingly worried, and poor Gabriel was on the verge of passing out from pain. The candle was nearly melted all the way down by the time Camille whispered "Aha!" She very gently cleaned out the bullet and sword wound, and was just finishing his bandages when Jack came in.

"I've been on this ship three bloody minutes and we have a casualty? What kind of captain are you, Quartermaine?" he joked.

"For your information Jack Sparrow, I've just performed my second surgery without a medical degree," she bragged.

"Very good, love."

She looked down at her patient. "Are you all right, Gabriel? Is there anything else?" she asked gently, stroking his hair.

"No. Thank you, Camille. You saved my life," he said gratefully. He had a little trouble sitting up, but she helped him get to his feet.

"Come, let's get you a cabin. She's all yours Captain, and I'll clean up the mess."

"Not to worry, darling. That's what shiphands are for," Jack said, opening the door for them. "You there! What's your name? I don't care what your name is, get in there and clean up that mess! That cabin had best be spotless when I come back in!"

It was just now that Camille realized she still had on Jack's hat. After finding a bed for Gabriel, she went back up through the rain to Jack's cabin. It was being cleaned, and Jack had his feet up and his bottle of rum in hand as he shouted out orders.

"I'm glad to see you in a better mood, Captain," she said as she placed the hat on his desk.

"Evenin', love. I think I'll hold off roll call until morning. Only a madman would set sail in this weather," he said, pulling her onto his lap.

"I'm also glad to see that you're not one of those, either. You had me worried back there. I must admit, I've never seen you so vexed as you've been these past days."

He rubbed her back. "Did you think I'd be hostile towards you, darling?"

"It is possible. You have been before."

But Jack only laughed. Nothing could bring his merriment down even remotely now, not even the violent storm that was raging. In fact, it was probably helping his mood. Camille excused herself from the cabin. She was quite relieved at the sudden change in her captain's elations.

Priscilla and Gretchen were in Gabriel's cabin. Priscilla was sharing her blanket with Gretchen, and Gabriel was sitting up, talking to them. Camille peeked in on them. "There are plenty of cabins available, you know. Perhaps the two of you would be best to share one," she said, addressing the ladies.

The sisters looked equally as terrified. "Are we the only women on the ship?" Gretchen asked.

"Of course we are. This isn't a time when women are much fond of a life at sea. Are you really that worried about this?" Camille asked. "Gabriel, lie down, for God's sake," she insisted.

"Are they going to hurt us?" Priscilla asked.

"No, darling. Because if they do, they are going to turn into sharkbait or be sold into slavery very quickly." She took a seat next to Priscilla. "You're going to be just fine on the _Pearl_. Now come, we've got to get you out of these wet clothes before you catch cold. A pirate ship is the worst place to be sick on."

This said, Gretchen screamed, waking Gabriel from his nodding off. Camille held her hand to her mouth. Perhaps she shouldn't have used that word. Gretchen was going to go hysterical on her. She was huddled up in the corner, covering her ears.

"Please, don't go hysterical on me now," Camille begged, approaching her slowly.

But Gretchen was extremely paranoid. "No! Don't touch me!" she cried, with tears in her eyes.

"Gretchen, honestly," Gabriel began. "You've done this before-"

"No I haven't! I do not go on pirate ships, I have never!" She would not move from her spot on the floor, and Camille had to resolve to picking her up and hoisting the young woman over her shoulder. The entire time Gretchen kicked, punched and scratched until she was placed into another room.

"Perhaps you'd prefer to share the cabin with your brother," Camille said, letting herself back into the hold with some clothes. Her lip had been split open, and she sucked on it gently. Priscilla had been waiting patiently for her there. Ana Maria had arrived shortly before, and unlike Jack she was in as foul a mood as when they had left the house.


	21. Fellowship

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. The title is a poem that's written by an unknown author.

Chapter 21: Fellowship

The next morning Camille woke up to a very loud, very obnoxious woman's voice. Gretchen had entered the cabin, demanding that Jack let her off the ship. Ana Maria had followed her in, yelling above her the entire time. Camille groaned and rolled over, observing the scene.

The two women were bickering and becoming very violent, while Jack merely sat at his desk with his treasure maps spread out. He simply looked at them, and raised his finger to his lips. But they paid him no attention.

"I demand to be taken back to Port Celebros! This is no way to treat me!" Gretchen complained.

"If you want off this ship, than you can swim to shore!" Ana Maria shouted, drowning out her protesting.

"Absolutely not, I can't swim!"

"Well than that's not my problem!"

"STOP SHOUTING!" Jack demanded, and the both of them shut up. Camille propped herself up on her elbows and looked through the open door. She could tell that Gretchen was about to go into one of her hysterical fits. She happened to know from personal experience that Jack was in a very good mood this morning, and he might just be able to tolerate this.

Ana Maria was quite the opposite, though. "Isn't there any way we _could_ leave her behind? Perhaps tie an anchor on her and drop her to the bottom of the sea; or strand her on an island with dresses that aren't made of silk?"

Camille laughed out loud, slipping into her old green and yellow dress. She made her way out to the main part of Jack's cabin, where there two women were still immersed in an argument. Jack held out his arm to Camille and she took it, sitting comfortably on his desk with her legs showing.

"Apologies," he said. "There was nothing I could do about these two. We may have to tie ropes around their waists and drag them behind in the ocean the rest of the way."

"I don't see what the challenge is!" Gretchen continued. "All that you've got to do is row me back to the shore."

"And what exactly is preventing you?" Jack questioned, placing his calloused hand on Camille's thigh.

"I don't know the first thing about sailing, or rowing! How can I possibly be expected to be of any use on this…this ship full of monsters?" she said, looking like she was about to burst into tears.

"Then we've simply got to make a sailor out of you," Camille said.

"And how are you going to do that?" Ana Maria asked exasperatedly.

"Well, first we'll need to rid you of that dress and everything underneath it."

"Absolutely not!" Gretchen argued, picking up her skirts. "Just because I am among a horde of miscreants does not mean I shall act any less like the respectable lady that I am!"

"Only one nice dress, eh? What happened to all of your other clothes?" Ana Maria asked mockingly. Gretchen's eyes began filling up with tears. She left the cabin without another word.

"Well, now that _she's_ gone," Jack said, unrolling a map. "I've been meaning to talk to the two of you. Gabriel as well."

Camille and Ana leaned in to get a better look at the map. It was the same as the one in Camille's hand, except that there were markings all over which she couldn't comprehend. He pointed to the port which they were to land at, Port Barranquilla. "Once there, we are to head for the city. We should reach it in no less th-"

"We've found a stowaway, Captain!" a sailor cried, bursting in the door. All three of them started, scrambling to hide the map from sight. There were shouts of treachery and deceit as more men came into the cabin, carrying a struggling figure amongst them.

Ana's eyes widened. "Mr. Norrington?"  
"James!" Camille cried.

"Hang him," Jack said without hesitation.

Camille punched him in the arm. "Jack," she scolded.

He sighed. "All right, _maim_ him."

"Captain, please."

"Very well," Jack said, reluctantly getting up from his seat. "Release him. You are dismissed, gentlemen." He strode up to Norrington, very pleased with the reversal of power that had recently taken place. Now he would pay for all those times he had attempted to have Jack executed.

Camille knew that she was basically the key to keeping James alive in this situation, but decided to watch anyway and see what Jack was thinking.

"What are you doing on my ship?" Jack asked calmly.

"I dare say you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," Jack said, the small beginnings of flames dancing in his eyes.

James retained his composure, not being threatened by Jack's blind hatred of him in the least bit. "Are you going to invite me to have a seat or must I be forced to give the entire account standing?" He was testing Jack's nerves.

"There will be plenty of time to sit when you're dead," Jack said in his unchanging tone.

"I see. Well, it was Mr. Turner who first contacted me."

Jack growled. "And I wonder who could've gotten _him_ involved," he said sarcastically. Camille frowned.

"He explained to me the entire situation with the Devil's Dowry, and as he convinced me to do this I happened to remember this fascinating encounter that I had with Long John Silver some time ago."

Camille could see Jack tense up a bit at the mention of Silver's name. He looked at James dangerously, but James showed no fear. Most likely because he didn't have any. _If only they could stand each other_, Camille thought. _They would make a wonderful team._

"Back when we had detained him after attacking Miss Quartermaine, we kept most of his belongings while he was imprisoned. Are you going to keep your hand on your pistol all day like some madman or are you just going to shoot me, Sparrow?" he finally demanded.

Before he could get a cold remark out of Jack, Camille realized what he was getting at. "It was his crutch, wasn't it?"

James nodded. "Indeed, Miss Quartermaine. You are very perceptive."

"Well, I just knew that something about it didn't look right. Was it something to with the Dowry?"


	22. Aubade

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a poem by Philip Larkin, it means a morning song.

Chapter 22: Aubade

"He wouldn't say, but when I attempted to question him about it he became very irate. At this point he had been isolated for quite some time, and the effects of it were beginning to show. He was very desperate to get out of jail, and told me that if I freed him I would find myself among those who never hungered for food nor thirsted for drink."

"He was going to curse you," Jack pointed out.

"Precisely. I agreed, letting my curiosity get the best of me. I was most interested in this man's behavior. He all of a sudden became extremely calm. So calm, I would venture to say that for a moment I felt as if by some grave error he'd been mistakenly locked up. He and I were conversing as two gentlemen do, and if it wasn't for the glance he stole at my sword I should say I would have fallen right into his trap."

"Right, this is all very intriguing," Jack interrupted impatiently. "But what exactly does this have to do with the Dowry? Or the crutch?"

Norrington ignored Jack's remark completely. "I managed to back away just in time for him to lunge at me through the bars. As his arm shot out towards me, I caught a glimpse of skull with a serpent just above his elbow."

"He had The Mark?" Camille and Ana exclaimed, not exactly at the same time.

Jack shook his head. "Impossible, that was before he even got to the Rune or the treasure. You're a terrible liar," he accused Norrington.

"The Devil's Dowry ain't necessarily got to be from _that_ treasure. The Mark appears on any man that takes cursed treasure," Ana Maria pointed out.

"But the Mark is distinct for each case. Every treasure, every location has its own mark. Cortez's gold had no mark except for immortality," Jack said darkly, wandering over to his desk. He pulled out a drawer, and set it down. It was full of trinkets, and then he pulled from the bookcase a crutch. "This," he said, spinning the crutch, "is all that I have of Silver's."

"How could that possibly be of any use?" asked James.

"The next time you murder someone, tell me how simple it is to bury a body with gold and silver on it," Jack said, half grinning. But from his tone, James had hit on a personal area of his life.

"So what are we searching for?" Camille asked, distracting him from whatever awful memory had gotten ahold of him just then.

"I'm not sure." He rotated the crutch in his hand, looking over it carefully.

"But if he had the snake and the skull, doesn't that mean that it was from the Rune?" she asked. She was very confused.

"How could he have gotten a mark from treasure he had not yet taken?" Ana Maria asked. "And there wasn't even any fire. Was there?"

James shook his head. "Nothing, there was no source of light near enough to his skin."

"Then he carved it," Jack concluded.

"From what? Gabriel had the map the entire time," Camille protested.

"It's all very strange. The bottom line is, I think, that Silver knew about the Dowry," James said.

"So how does that help us at all if he is dead?" Ana asked.

"You have the same mark that he did Captain Sparrow, do you not?" James asked.

The three of them looked at him. This was the very first time he hadn't referred to Jack as "Mr." Sparrow, and it sounded odd coming from him. Jack eyed him suspiciously, still rotating the cane.

"Just what are you trying to tell us, James?" Camille asked.

"I am simply pointing out that perhaps, as in most cases, there is more to the story than is being told."

"And are you accusing me of putting these men and women's lives in danger so that I can go off on some wild goose chase? Because I could very well do it alone. It's not at all what you think it is, _Commodore_," Jack sneered, "so you had best get off my ship in whatever way you see fit."

"Jack, the crutch!" Ana Maria shouted, almost causing him to drop it. A moment before it had been nothing but a plain wooden crutch. Now one could clearly see the Mark inscribed on it. "What does it mean?"

Jack looked at James. "Would you like to answer this one?" he asked with his biting sarcasm.

But James just stared at the crutch. "I've no idea."

"Something's not adding up," Camille pointed out. "Besides the entire Devil's Dowry that's enshrouded in mystery. James, just why did you come on this ship?"

"Another good question. I have some very distressing news for all of you, but especially you, Miss Quartermaine. There is a Commodore heading the King's Navy, and a rather large price on your head, Sparrow."

"Lovely," Jack said. "Not get off my ship."

"Well, who is it?" Camille pressed. "Don't tell me…"

James nodded. "Gillette."

"How in the hell did he get out of jail?" Camille demanded.

"The charges were dropped. He is a very persuasive man. The money couldn't be found."

Jack grinned his little half grin. "The story's starting to make sense now. How is it that Commodore James Norrington, the pride of the King's Royale Navy, could do something so detrimental to his career?" he mused.

"Jack!" Camille cried. "James, don't pay any attention to him."

"That was my plan from the beginning, Miss Quartermaine."

"So all of this is Gillette's doing? We can't let him get away with this."

"Certainly not. And Sparrow, the next piece of information I give should silence even _you_," James said, finally directly addressing Jack. "He is headed for Colombia as well." And this indeed, did silence the three of them.

Jack said nothing after this. He left the cabin, and they were to set sail immediately. All quandaries about taking Gretchen or James off the ship were dropped.

Camille remained in the cabin with him, just staring at him. She had no idea how he had managed to get all of this information, but he must have nearly died getting it. That was the only reasonable explanation. Or this could have something to do with him not being Commodore anymore. Perhaps he knew too much, perhaps he had become too engrossed in the mystery for his own good. And something else was clear to her, as well. Jack was going to kill him.


	23. A prison gets to be a friend

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a poem by Emily Dickinson.

A Prison gets to be a friend

They had set sail in such a hurry; it hadn't even been one week yet and the crew was completely burned out. Jack worked them hard. Gabriel was the only one who got any rest at all because he'd been wounded. Even young Priscilla was working herself to the bone. She was the only one who noticed that Gretchen had confined herself to her room. Priscilla was busy taking care of her brother and making sure that her sister didn't go mad.

Camille was so angry at Jack for his treatment of James, she hadn't slept with him since that first night. She talked to him and addressed him very politely, but she and Ana Maria were in agreement with their avoidance of them. They knew very well this was not the wisest thing to do, and the entire crew was feeling the wrath of Jack's anger and frustration.

Camille sat among the barrels, basking in the ample amount of shade she could find for as long as she could without being caught. She watched the desolate-looking men staggering back and forth. She wasn't worried about Jack catching her; he was most likely at the helm, like he had been for the past three days straight.

She was discovered by Ana Maria shortly, but instead of being reprimanded by her she was joined. Ana's hair was piled underneath a wide-brimmed hat like hers was, and she wore a long-sleeved cotton shirt over a light skirt to protect her from the heat. She sighed. "This isn't what I expected at all. You can't imagine the excitement I felt, Camille, to be goin' back out at sea."

"I felt the same way. But you're right, it's not the same." She paused. They were both walking on eggshells about Jack's mood. "I don't know how to talk to him anymore, Ana. This week's been a horrible awakening for me."

"He's like that. Jack's always been alone, and he's always looked inside himself for answers to life's problems, even when it nearly kills him to do so. We all had hope for you, we really did. For awhile it seemed like you would be able to break down his barrier."

"Apparently not."

"Aye. I doubt a man like him would ever be subject to any change." She stiffened. "He's coming. Back to work."

The evenings were a bit less harsh on them, since reluctantly Jack did let his crew sleep. Camille took the free time to read out on the deck where no one else was since they were forced to spend most of the day there.

"Miss Camille!" a young girl said, practically racing across the deck. She looked very worried.

"Priscilla darling, what's the matter?" she said, closing her book.

"It's Gretchen, she's locked herself up in her room and is even refusing me now! She hasn't eaten all day. I'm concerned about her, Miss Camille."

The last thing Camille wanted to do was coach the obnoxious Gretchen into tolerating life on a ship. She had nowhere near enough patience to do it at this point. But she got up and followed Priscilla below. Sure enough, the door would not budge.

"Gretchen!" Camille knocked hard on the door. "Gretchen, you've been in there since we've left! This is complete nonsense, I'm coming in!" she warned. Bracing herself and pushing Priscilla aside, she kicked down the door. She groaned, rubbing her sore foot and immediately regretting her course of action.

Gretchen was inside, her dress and her face tearstained. The curls were gone from her hair, and it looked like a mess. Priscilla stuck her head in cautiously.

Camille placed her hand on her hips. "Gretchen, this is ridiculous. You can't stay in here, look at you. And you must eat something."

"I'm not hungry," Gretchen said in a meek voice.

"You would be if you didn't have that damned corset on," Camille insisted. "Now I'm getting you some clothes, and we are changing you out of that dress."

"No!" she protested. "I don't want to look you, like a…a whore!"

"I guarantee you'll look better than I do, and my profession is NONE of your business. But technically, I suppose being unmarried and having sex does make me a whore."

Priscilla looked shocked to hear this information. "Miss Camille," she stammered. "That doesn't make you a whore," she stated plainly. "Only if you were promiscuous."

"Thank you, that's my opinion on the subject as well," Camille said, looking back at Priscilla and winking. She turned back to Gretchen. "You are going to become a pirate wench, whether you like it or not."

Gretchen screamed in protest, throwing a pillow at Camille who easily dodged it. Priscilla ducked out of the room to go and get some clothes for her sister.

Camille stood her ground. She had been toying with this idea for some time now, teaching another woman as Ana Maria had taught her. She presented her with the same circumstances as she'd been presented with years ago.

"All right Gretchen, I would like you to imagine these two scenarios, and I would like you to think about them carefully."

Gretchen was still angry, but she was listening. She was desperate for any social interaction.

"I want you to think about remaining in this very room for the remainder of the voyage. No one would harass you, you wouldn't have to do any chores, you could relax all day. That is, until the Captain finds out. And he is a very keen observer of the behavior that is conducted aboard his ship. Now I want you imagine his reaction."

Gretchen's eyes grew wide and terrified.

"Ah, there you go. Yes, he will be _furious_ with you. Belligerent, punishing, bellowing, all of those lovely things. And what do you suspect he will do to you, besides make you walk the plank?"  
"He wouldn't."

"You've seen his rage. He would most definitely."

Gretchen swallowed. "And what of the other scenario?"

"Well, it wouldn't involve as much relaxation as the first one, but you would be properly clothed, fed, and possibly be clear of Jack's moodiness."

"But I would have to work. I'm much too weak to suffer the demands of a ship like this one," she said, making up an excuse for herself. "I could become ill. I could suffer from heat exhaustion, or twist my ankle running around all day on deck. I could even fall overboard. I'm not accustomed to being on a ship at all."


	24. The Glamour Trap

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. The title is a short play by George Lefferts. I wrote a paper on it last year. It's really good. I suggest you read it. And this. Hehe.

Chapter 24: The Glamour Trap

"That's where I come in. Ana Maria and I can teach you in absolutely no time how to make due with the sudden changes. After all, I was in your very position some years ago."

"You were not," Gretchen spat. "You were never as wealthy as I."

"The first lesson you are going to have to learn is humility. You are no better than any of us."

"But I am! How can I possibly endure such difficulty! What am I to do without servants?" Gretchen exclaimed.

"Well, it's a bit difficult at first. But after awhile it's somewhat uplifting of a feeling that you are able to depend on yourself."

"I cannot, I just cannot. How can I be expected to care for myself; to cook for myself, or even dress myself? It can't be done, you suggest the impossible!" But Camille could see that she was wearing down. Days of these hysterics had placed them both in a rather favourable position. Gretchen was very suggestible at this point.

"The dressing part is what astounded me at first. Now, I know, it may seem entirely improper and embarrassing at first to go without layers of underthings. But I can assure you that it is much easier to move, even stand in under the hot sun."  
"I can't go out in the sun, it will ruin my complexion!" she squealed, beginning to panic again.

"We've got hats, like the one I'm wearing," Camille said in a calm voice.

"It's hideous. I loathe it."

"But it will keep you looking beautiful. And without all the clothing your body will retain its youth, and your skin will maintain its…delicacy," she said, searching for the last word.

The flattery had done it. Gretchen was already sitting up straighter. Camille secretly leapt for joy. Why hadn't she thought of flattery instead of logic sooner? Probably because she was so used to convincing the irrational Jack Sparrow.

"Yes, and the breeze through your hair is ultimately healthier than the use of curlers on it. And from all of the movement and exercise, your complexion will improve further," Camille exaggerated. "And you mustn't forget, we won't be at sea the entire time. We occasionally stop in other ports, bigger ports. In your spare time, (and with all of the money you'll aquire), you can attend balls."

Gretchen squealed again, this time with joy, and stood up. "My goodness Camille, how come you never told me this before? Where are my clothes, how do I get ready?"

"Here they are!" spoke Priscilla, entering the room with the old blue dress that Camille once wore. It was the nicest of any of them except the green dress.

Gretchen frowned. "It's so unflattering to my figure," she whined.

"Only until you see how much it fits your form. Priscilla, help me get this dress off."

Half an hour later, Gretchen was standing in the middle of the room with the simple blue dress on. Her hair had been brushed out, and hung down below her shoulders in loose coils, still maintaining some of its form.

"How do you like it?"

Gretchen spun around slowly, still making a face. "It's not very pretty. And it's old."

"Yes, but see how you can _move_ in it! Walk towards me, come on," Camille suggested.

Though she didn't want to admit it to either of the young ladies, Gretchen was completely shocked at how light she felt. She never knew she could extend her legs as far as she could. Camille laughed. "You see?"

"Let's go show Gabriel!" Priscilla beamed. "I'm sure he would love to see her."

They all went quietly into Gabriel's room, where he was still awake. He greeted them warmly, and then stopped. "Is that _really_ my sister? Camille, my God, what have you done to her?" he asked, very impressed.

"Oh please, Gabriel," Gretchen said, sticking her nose up in the air. "It's not that bad."

"No, indeed it's wonderful! I'm quite shocked that you got her to change out of her dress at all."

"Gabriel, I am standing right here. Do not speak like I'm not present," sneered Gretchen.

Gabriel huffed. "It seems that your attitude can still stand some improvement."

"Come on, let us go on deck," Priscilla urged.

"Yes, that is a very good idea. I think I'll venture up, as well," Gabriel said, getting up. Camille stepped forward, and he shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I need to get out of this room and move about," he said as she looked at him reproachfully. She said nothing though, and the four of them made their way out into the starlight.

Once on the deck, Gabriel looked straight up and breathed a deep sigh. "This is so beautiful. Now I can understand what you meant those years ago when we had that talk, Camille."

"Aye," she replied. "Gretchen, Priscilla, come here! I want to show you something." She pointed at the North Star. "Do you know what that is?"

"Of course I do, it's a star," Gretchen replied smartly.

"Not just any star, it's Polaris," Gabriel corrected. "It's how we know in which direction we are going."

"Tomorrow you're going to learn all about the other parts of the ship," Camille said, concealing a grin. It gave some sort of satisfaction to know that Gretchen would no longer be so histrionic. But something caught her eye. "Dolphins!" she said, looking over the side of the ship.

"Dolphins?" Priscilla asked. "They're so graceful!" she observed. Even her sister seemed to be enjoying herself.

"Yes, did you know that they are mammals?" Camille explained.

"Really?"

"Aye. They breathe in the air. Oh, look!" They were swimming right up next to the side of the ship, jumping in and out of the waves. "I wonder if we have any fish."


	25. Lines

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. I don't really own any of the chapter titles, either. The title is the poem by William Wordsworth that is also known as "Tintern Abbey".

Chapter 25: Lines

The next day was very gratifying, at least to Camille. Still rewarding herself for being able to talk Gretchen into at least changing her clothes, she was enjoying every moment of this day. Gretchen had the pleasure of swabbing the decks. It was Camille's least favorite job, because her back would always ache afterward and her skin would burn easily. The deck was extremely difficult to clean, and was and ongoing job that was never finished. Sailor were constantly spitting on it, vomiting on it, seagulls were always messing on it, broken rum bottles and the contents were usually spread all over it…it was a terrible job for any man or woman.

She did feel somewhat sorry for Gretchen. She was the only one besides Gabriel and Priscilla who knew about her rape, and therefore her fear of pirates. But there were times where she wanted to punch the girl in the mouth until all her teeth spilled out, also. Nobody should ever act like that.

Camille was one of the few cheerful ones on the ship that day. It was too early in the journey to mend sails, nothing was really broken, so she got to be on kitchen duty, which she had learned to excel at. And the compliments everyone made about her cooking always boosted her self-esteem, as well.

To everyone's surprise, the captain was nowhere to be found that evening. Relieved, the evening passed by lazily. Perhaps Jack's frenzy was beginning to calm down a bit already. Camille sat out on the deck, letting the cool breeze flow around her and enjoying it. She was joined shortly by James, who was actually beginning to look much healthier to her.

"Mr. Norrington, you're looking well. Much of your strength has been returning on the sea, eh?" she questioned him.

"Yes, that and your cooking," he complimented. "I suppose you are going to go to Jack after what I have to say to you."

"I am not speaking to him," she said quickly. "That man is unbelievably stubborn, and until he adjusts that I have resolved to ignore him. Besides, he's probably watching us this very instant. He knows and hears everything aboard this ship."

"He has been rather indifferent in his treatment of me, actually. I have received no further snide remarks from him or otherwise. I believe he may be preoccupied with other thoughts."

"Other thoughts? Like what?"

"He is probably perplexed as to how Gillette knew to go to Colombia as well. That would imply that Gillette had somehow obtained a clue."

"Yes, I suppose that it would."

"I believe that it has something to do with a ring of some sort."

Camille froze. He knew about the ring? How could he possibly know about it? How could there have been _two _rings? She looked at James. "You knew? How long have you known?"

"Just before Gillette replaced me, Sparrow's route was being traced around Peru. When the Thatcher estate, Jack's last known whereabouts, was searched, a mysterious ring was found."

"Another ring? That's impossible," she said, feeling panicked. "That's entirely impossible! Gabriel had all of the artifacts concealed!"

"Adrienne," she realized.

"Whom?"

"Adrienne Thatcher and Morgan Sullivan were the two women before us to guard the treasure. The map must've been in Adrienne's ring as well as my mother's. But James, something is still missing. How were they able to decipher the map? It would have to be triggered by Priscilla or Gretchen."

"He must have met with the Thatchers at some point between their arrival in Jamaica and when they got to your estate."

"Yes, it makes sense. But why is Gillette so intent on finding this?"

"I believe he means to make a name for himself in doing so. But I must say, he is going about it in a very unwise manner. I would think a pirate to be more knowledgeable than he or I."

"I agree. Well, I suppose that I had better have a conversation with Miss Thatcher about that ring."

James nodded. "I am assuming it will be back to work tomorrow morning, as always?"

"I don't know. I can no longer predict the captain's unstable moods. But I'll find out all that I can." Their prediction was correct. After a short talk with Gretchen, who was tired as ever, she found that there had been a meeting between Gillette and the three of them. They had thought nothing of it, but Camille remained suspicious.

"Were you wearing your mother's ring that day?"

"How should I remember? It was so long ago, now leave me to retire," Gretchen whined.

Camille left her alone, and hesitated before entering Jack's cabin. This was just like the Rune, only worse because they all had some kind of awful fate hanging over their heads that had been known from the beginning.

She sighed. Not speaking with Jack over a week had really put their relationship in perspective for her. He hadn't even tried to talk to her. Being the captain of a ship once again took up all his time. But it had only been a short time. After all, he had given up a life at sea for some time to live with her in Port Celebros. Perhaps she was being selfish. Perhaps she had to let him be in love with the sea again.


	26. The Thorn

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. The title is a mystery poem by William Wordsworth.

Chapter 26: The Thorn

"Jack?" she knocked on the door. A grunt was all that she heard from inside. Taking it as permission to enter, she opened the door. The cabin was very neat and organized, which was the first sign that something was wrong. The floor was almost spotless, the broken window had been patched up, and the books…the books were in alphabetical order, and the shelf cleaned!

She jumped when she heard the slight clanging of bottles together. Jack sat, with his feet up on the table in his typical manner. "Jack, you scared me!"

"Sorry, love."

"What is going on?"

"Eh? He tilted his head back so he could see her from underneath its rim. "Am I not allowed to clean my own cabin? It's not as I've had anything else to do as of late."

"Except work the crew to death."

"Are you going to start telling me how to run my ship, woman?"  
"Jack, I have never seen you in this mood before," she admitted. She had become extremely used to Jack's moodiness. When he was depressed, angry, playful, happy, drunk…she could even tell when he was frightened. He solved most every problem by avoidance; that was obvious. But she had become a master at interpreting his attitudes and body language. She knew nothing of this composed sarcasm he was dealing out at her. Therefore she had no idea how to react to him. And that was dangerous. Jack's and Camille's attitudes tended to reflect off one another.

"Does that worry you?"

"Actually, it does. Is there anything you have to tell me?"

"Not that you don't already know. What information have you got?"

"I am _not_ a messenger," she stated defiantly. He was really trying her patience. "If I tell you anything, it is of my own free will."

He leaned forward in his seat. "You are being most unwise, Miss Quartermaine. If you've not been able to guess at my mood yet, I can tell you that it's not a very pleasant one."

"Why not? Is a part of the ship unclean?" she was planning on going further with that comment, but she shut her mouth. The only persons she didn't have to be painstakingly patient with were Gabriel and James. "Apologies, Captain."

"No, go on. Finish your remark," he insisted.

"I'm quite done."

"Are you? Are you done undermining me for this week, Camille? Thank you. Thank you _very_ much," he spat.

She noticed that Jack looked very different. He looked hardened, and angry. She knew that he was no feminine macaroni-like British gentlemen, but he was human. She hadn't been paying that much attention to his physical features, but now she could see that he hadn't been sleeping. And he'd most likely been drinking excessively. Yes, she could clearly see the bottles in perfectly straight rows. All of them were empty. "Oh Jack, what is it?" she prompted him.

With an annoyed look on his face, as if it were Camille's fault she had not by some miracle figured it out, he rolled up his sleeve. The Mark was visible. He slammed his fist down on the table, making an angry sound when he did so.

Camille rolled up her own sleeve without hesitating. Her Mark was also present. Without a flame? Just like Long John's it stood out now. Red as it had been freshly carved into her flesh, only it didn't hurt. She wanted to know what it meant. The Mark could change appearance?

She looked at Jack. She didn't want to go to him; he didn't look very comforting at all. But she was so scared. She reached her hand into her pocket and slipped on the ring. There was still a little sunlight out, and she held her hand toward the window. "The spot, it's gone," she exclaimed.

"What?" Jack said. His chair could be heard falling over and he appeared at her side a second later. She was right. There was no golden dot by Aguadulce.

"The treasure has disappeared?"

"Unless it was never treasure to being with," Jack ruminated.

"Than what was it?"

"I wish I knew, love," he rested his arm on her shoulder, and she shuddered. She longed for his touch on the rest of her body. She began swooning, and he was able to hold her steady. She turned around, and he looked like Jack again. The Jack she knew.

"I've missed you so much," she said innocently, tugging at his dreadlocks.

"I've been here all along," he assured her, half smiling.

"No, you haven't. Something was wrong. Something about you has been missing for the past several days. We thought you were beginning to go mad," she said before she kissed him. He waited until she was done.

"How could I go mad with a woman like you to keep me sane?"

"You certainly do come close, Captain Sparrow."

He sighed. "Camille, you know as much as I do that there is a dark side of me. I never wish to share it…with anyone. It's a past that I sometimes wish I had never lived. I don't want to live it more than once, not even in memory."

She looked at him carefully. He looked sad now. She kissed him gently on the chin. "You don't ever have to remember those things, Jack. You've got me to take your mind off that now."

"Yes, and since you've made such an offer…this week has been a living hell."

"I'll second that. Would you like it rough or sensual?"

He laughed, taking off his jacket. "Torture me."


	27. Beyond Good & Evil

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. The title is a book written by Friedrich Nietzsche.

Chapter 27: Beyond Good & Evil

That evening _The Black Pearl_ docked in a nearby port. This was to be their first of many encounters with other seafaring men. Priscilla and Gretchen were terrified, being in a completely different part of town than they were used to. Gabriel was able to carry himself much more confidently.

The inn was very clean, and quiet for the most part. The group found their rooms and made themselves very comfortable before dining. But it was also then that some very bad news presented itself. Ana Maria announced that some of the ship hands had actually run away. If Jack didn't stop berating his crew soon, he wouldn't have anyone left. But to make matters worse, it was then that Gretchen discovered the Mark on her arm.

She made a complete scene in the tavern, bringing everyone's attention to her. She seemed mad, scratching at her arm and shrieking. She was hysterical, with tears falling down her cheeks as she made no attempt to form rational sentences. It ended with Jack dragging her away painfully, since he had no intention of loosening his grip on her when she screamed even louder.

Camille immediately followed him, and it was somewhat amusing to see a small parade of her, James, Priscilla, Ana Maria, and Gabriel running up the stairs after one another. It was no mystery what room the two were in, since the screaming could be heard.

"Jack, let her go!" Camille protested, being the first one inside. He was holding Gretchen by the waist, and she was trying unsuccessfully to attack him while still being hysterical. "She's frightened!"

"And she's going to alert the whole bloody town of our existence as well," he said with some difficulty. "All right, that's enough," he said, taking out his pistol and aiming at Gretchen's head. She stopped moving immediately.

Gabriel came in, followed by James. "What are you doing?" he cried. "Don't shoot my sister!"

"Gretchen!" Priscilla called, making her way into the room as well. Ana Maria came in more quietly. She was secretly enjoying this moment.

"Jack Sparrow, you put that pistol away," Camille demanded. "You are going to scare her to death, and we need her."

"Nonsense, we'll use the other Thatcher girl," Jack said calmly. At this Gretchen clapped her hand over her mouth and began sobbing. He looked at her. "Not another sound from you," he said, cocking the pistol.

"What are you doing?" Priscilla asked. "Have you gone mad? Camille, look at him! He's gone mad!" she insisted. "Gabriel, do something!"

Gabriel looked at his little sister. "Captain…" he began quietly.

"Jack, she's right," Ana Maria insisted. "As much as I'd love to see the wench suffer, you're taking this too far. Put the pistol down."

"Jack, please," Camille begged.

"If I take this away," Jack said, eyeing Gretchen carefully, "She's just going to go into hysterics again."

"No she won't, she is going to be calm…aren't you?" Camille asked slowly. Gretchen nodded, tears still flowing down her face. "You see? She'll be fine, and we'll explain the Mark to her."

Jack huffed. He and Ana Maria shared the same opinion of Gretchen. He liked being in control. He was almost shaking with rage now, and it had taken all of his energy not to pull the trigger just then and delight in the "tragedy". He tried to hide his grin, but Camille caught it.

He reluctantly put the pistol away, and Gretchen fainted. Camille and Gabriel rushed forward to catch her, as Ana Maria remained in her spot. Something had been wrong, just now. The look in Jack's eyes, it had crossed from anger to insanity in that instant. But she was observing the captain's state now, and he seemed all right.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Honestly, this woman couldn't stand on her feet for a day."

Camille looked Gretchen over. "I think she'll be all right. There's no physical harm." Gabriel was looking at Jack, narrowing his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but Camille was back on her feet before he knew it. She pushed Jack into the next room and locked the door.

She slapped him. "Are you completely daft!" she bellowed.

"Ouch! Darling, I was only teaching her th-"

"No," Camille interrupted. "No, Jack. You do not threaten to shoot _one of us_," she said darkly. "That was taking it too far."

"It was not, I was simply controlling her from attacking me," he brushed it off.

"She was not attacking you until you provoked her!" Camille yelled. "How could-how could you DO that!"

"You are overreacting…"

"I am _not _overreacting!" Her face was almost as red as her hair now. "You've lost all reason! And don't pretend it was just anger, I saw it Jack! I saw it in your eyes; you were delighted at the thought of killing her! At the thought of something evil! You bastard!" she yelled, slapping him again.

"Ah, so now you think I've gone insane now with the rest of the crew," Jack concluded, taking out his knife as Camille nodded.

"Pretty much, yes."

"Well then, perhaps I _have _gone mad," he said, throwing it and missing her by inches. It stuck straight in the door behind her. "And maybe I am just in denial!" he said, exploding.

"I don't know what has happened. But I know this. As of now, I am NO LONGER A PART OF IT!"

He looked at her, with a disgusted look on her face. "Do you really think I care?" He straightened himself up, looking at her directly in the eyes. "D'you honestly think that at some point I was _in love_ with you?" he asked in a belittling tone. "Because if so, than you are much stupider than I have ever accredited any woman with being before."

All her anger was immediately melted into pain. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She left that room, passing the others. They were all silent, as they had been listening to every word of the fight. Camille cried herself to sleep that evening.


	28. Moment

A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews! I know I haven't been showing you readers how much I appreciate it lately. But thank you. Thank you so much. Your encouragement and interest really means a lot to me. Especially you, Sentinel Sparrow. I think that I can safely say you have commented every time I make and update lol.

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. The title is actually from a poem that I wrote myself. It's about wanting more of someone than you can actually have.

Chapter 28: Moment

When she woke up, Jack's words were still echoing in her mind. He had gone too far. Of course, she had yelled at him first. But he had never attempted to control his angry outbursts around her, and she was sick of it. Of course, the realization of it all had not hit her entirely yet. Right now, she was simply angry. Jack was an idiot, and so was she to have ever gotten involved with him. She did not want to get aboard the same ship as him, and had half a mind to just deal with this curse instead of traveling with him ever again. She laid in bed until she couldn't stand it anymore and her brain hurt from thinking about everything. It was still early. Perhaps Jack would be in a drunken stupor and not up yet, and she could chance getting some breakfast.

She was horribly mistaken. When she came downstairs, the very first thing she saw was the captain, with his chin held up high, walking with extremely good posture across the tavern. He wasn't swaggering, he wasn't holding his hand out in front of him like usual. He looked very proud, but a different kind of proud. Jack Sparrow had always been proud and carried himself with dignity, but a different kind. This was a _formal_ kind of dignity, like the former Commodore Norrington.

She was not prepared at all to see Jack sober like this. If he had been drunk, she could've soothed herself by seeing how pathetic he was, and it would have been so much easier to simply roll her eyes and ignore his state. But this…he was so important now, and he seemed to fit his legendary title. He was almost with an air of arrogance…_because he's done with me_, she realized. A burden had been lifted off him. He was content now, and could perform his duties without any emotional baggage. (I might add, that if she had seen his face at all she wouldn't have thought any of this.)

She turned and ran back up the stairs, bumping into James. She muttered an apology and kept going as he turned around. "Camille, are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm fine, leave me be!" she said, shutting herself in her room.

Minutes later, she heard a gentle knock sounding on her door. She hoped it was Jack, and then mentally berated herself for having that hope. It was Gretchen, and her heart sank. Gretchen was the absolute next to last person she ever wanted to see besides Captain Sparrow.

"Camille?" she nearly whispered. She crept in, shutting the door behind her. "James told me you looked very upset. Is it about last night?"

Camille couldn't reply with a decent answer, and simply began blubbering. No clear words came out, only bits and pieces between her flowing tears. She was surprised at how fast Gretchen was to comfort her, and how safe it felt to have arms around her when she was crying.

Gretchen was very patient. It seemed they had switched personalities for the moment as Gretchen patted and rubbed her back, hushed her and calmed her down, and held her hands tightly while she tried to talk. Gretchen listened to everything Camille was trying to say, and nodded understandingly.

"Camille," she finally said. "I think I may know something that will make you feel better." But before she could continue, Ana Maria was in the room.

"The only thing that's goin' to make you feel better after a jackass like that is a couple of good, strong drinks. Come on, lass."

"Ana Maria, it's not even noon yet," Camille protested as Ana dragged her to her feet.

Gretchen stood up, too. "Ana Maria, I was in the middle of telling Camille that-"

"Didn't you learn from anything on the voyage thus far that a woman like you should be rarely seen and not heard?" Ana demanded rudely. At this, the icy cold stare that made itself so prevalent on Gretchen's face returned, and she flew out of the room. "Now then, let's go."

"I really can't," Camille said, trying to stay behind.

"Come on, the sooner the better. And I'll drink with ya. I could use some forgettin' about last night myself, if you know what I mean."

Camille was still so upset, she couldn't argue anymore. And at least if she liquored up enough, she could eventually forget Jack. That is, if she drank enough to make her more focused on making it to a place to vomit. And she did. It wasn't a very pretty sight, so I won't take the time to explain it.


	29. Hard Luck Woman

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is from my very favorite episode of _Cowboy Bebop_.

Chapter 29: Hard Luck Woman

They stayed at the inn for the next few days, and those were just as disastrous as the first night. Gretchen had changed personalities completely, and avoided Jack like the plague.

Camille and Ana Maria both recovered from their hangovers, but Ana was more on Jack's side over the entire situation. Still, she stuck with Camille. None of them saw Jack much, so it was the women, Gabriel, and James. None of them felt like talking about the treasure, or Jack.

The second or third night, Camille couldn't take it anymore. Her heart ached so badly for Jack, as well as the rest of her body. She kept going over the scenario in her head, and each time it hurt just as much. The look on his face; the tone of his voice. Still, maybe he had just been so mad at the time…there was always hope.

She made it to the steps before Ana Maria appeared. "And just where do you think you're going?" she demanded with her hands on her hips.

"Uhm, for a walk," Camille lied.

Ana rolled her eyes. "Don't do it Camille, you're only going to make things worse," she told her friend seriously. They both turned around when they saw James coming down the steps, though.

"What were you doing up there?" Ana questioned. The only one from their party with a room on that floor was Jack, so he'd obviously been in Jack's room just now.

James looked at them both solemnly. "To see Captain Sparrow. There was something I felt necessary to discuss with him."

"And is he in a decent mood?"

At this James cleared his throat and turned a shade of scarlet. "Well, it's difficult to say…"

Camille's jaw dropped. "He is not!"

Ana Maria got the same expression on her face. "Is he?"

James cleared his throat again, looking down. "I don't…really think it's my place to judge that sort of thing…"

Ana Maria snorted. "For God's sake man, you're among pirates now! I can't believe he's with a whore up there! Of all the nerve!"

Camille felt like she could cry. But she knew exactly what to do, and while her rage was still commanding her, she ran to Gabriel's room and pounded on the door.

He opened it, looking alarmed. "What? What is it?"

Before she could react she engulfed him with a kiss. Now, Gabriel may have been the innocent, chivalrous young boy of the story; but when Camille was at the Thatchers she had given him a little wild streak. He knew that his relationship to Camille was no more than a friendship, but he also desired her as much as any man. After all, she was the famous Redheaded Rogue Sullivan.

That night, they made sure to have the loudest sex ever. Come morning, both of them were exhausted. Gabriel was very understanding of the entire ordeal. He held Camille while she wept tears of grief and guilt afterwards.

He was beginning to dress himself when a knock sounded at the door. Sitting up quickly and pulling the covers up to her neck, Camille responded as casually as she could. "Who is it?"

"Darling, it's me. I need to speak with you." It was Jack!

Gabriel's eyes widened, but Camille dropped the covers. She stomped around the room, picking up her trousers and searching for her shirt. "Of all the low down, cowardly-"

Gabriel handed her his blouse as she quickly pulled it on. "-thank you-insolent, pathetic-" she pulled the door open and ignored the infuriated look on Jack's face when he saw her state. "-cold-hearted, _deviant_ things to do!"

"I'm deviant?" he asked, pushing the door open the entire way so that it slammed against the wall. "You disloyal w-"

"Disloyal!" she shrieked. "You bloody bastard! You have no right to call me disloyal! After everything I've done for you!"

Jack and Camille both aimed their pistols at one another at the exact same time. Gabriel didn't know what to do. He looked from one of them to the other, trying to decide which of them would be easier to calm down. "Captain, I can explain this-"

Jack took his pistol and aimed it at him. "You're next, boy. How dare you touch my woman!" he bellowed.

"Oh, come off it! I am not your woman!" she yelled.

He looked at her menacingly, still pointing the pistol at Gabriel. With a sneer, he nodded at Gabriel. "Get out."

Gabriel didn't hesitate at all. He practically ran past them, shirtless. Jack kicked the door shut, and Camille crossed her arms in front of her chest. "There is nothing to talk about," she said, feeling hot tears stinging her eyes.

"There is everything to talk about!" he hissed. "How dare you undermine me like that! I am your captain, I have every right to hang you for what you've just done to me!" he yelled.

She was used to Jack's threats. He was being horribly unfair. "You just slept with another woman," she said in a very steady tone.

"Of course I did! And it wasn't the first time!"

She clenched her hands into fists. "Well, that wasn't the first time I've slept with Gabriel!"

"You filthy whore…" he raised his hand to slap her.

"What, are you going to strike me?" she asked in a biting tone.

He kept his arm there. "You're right, I should have shot you a long time ago in the legs. Perhaps that might have kept you from _spreading them so much!_" he roared as she pushed past him and left the room.

Gabriel was in the hallway with Gretchen and Ana Maria when Camille came out. "Drop dead, Sparrow!" she yelled behind her as Jack followed her out of the room. She stormed past the rest, who had to keep Jack from attacking her.


	30. A Meaningless Effort

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 30: A Meaningless Effort

After a few days, Camille had gotten her emotions (and her drinking) under control with the help of James and the Thatchers. Ana Maria was not to be found, but rumor had it that she was trying to avoid both of them for fear of getting in the middle of things. However it was, the five of them had been discussing their situation rather carefully.

It all came down to this: Jack's cabin had to be searched. There must have been something he was hiding from all of them which was causing the turbulent changes as of late. They had come to the conclusion that Jack had not been acting like himself at all as of late, and both of the tavern incidents just strengthened their theory. (Of course, it was mostly James who was able to put it all together from Camille's and Ana Maria's accounts).

But the task of sneaking into his cabin, much less searching for something unknown would be impossible to do since Jack was always in his cabin now if not at the helm. A very clever plan would have to be concocted to get him away quickly.

"It would have to be something important. Something that Jack would attend to. If not, he'll just send someone else to do it," Camille said.

"What if I started an argument with Ana Maria?" Gretchen suggested.

"But that's happened before. Actually, every day not that I think about it," Priscilla answered truthfully. "You'd have to make it violent. You would have to become rather physical with her."

"I don't think that's a good idea. With all due respect Gretchen, Ana could probably kill you with her bare hands. I don't think it would be wise too push her too far," Gabriel said.

"Perhaps I should do it," James spoke up. "After all, Captain Sparrow does carry a rather distinct disliking for me."

"But what could you do?" Camille. "Steal something, break something…"

"What if _I_ were to begin an argument between Ana Maria and myself?" he suggested.

"That would be very unexpected," Gabriel pointed out.

"Yes, and Captain Sparrow would want to see that. He would love to see Ana Maria win in a fight against you," Priscilla spoke.

"Yes, and he's also want to protect Ana Maria if you were being too rough with her," Camille said. "And it would have the element of surprise. Ana will never think you to be so rash with her. I say we do it," Camille decided. Her heart still shattered into about a million pieces, but she did know the inside of Jack's cabin better than any of them. So being the one most suited for the job, she put her emotions aside for this.

They all agreed, and a few days later the plan was set in motion. Gibbs decided to help out as well, and he was no hindrance to the plan. The galley was the perfect place to pull it off. Many of the ship hands were there, and with a little luck this could escalate into an even bigger fight.

James sat with his back to Ana Maria, waiting for her to get up. When she finally did, James turned around and bumped right into her. She was a bit taken aback, and a couple of sailors turned their head. This was it.

James stood up straight and stuck his nose in the air. "I do suggest you watch where you are going. You've nearly messed up my trousers."

Ana Maria looked at him. "Excuse me? You're the one who should watch where you're goin', Norrington," she said a bit heatedly.

"That may be so. But I have every right to be out here to begin with, woman."

That did it. Ana Maria slammed her fist down on the table, causing some men to jump. "What did you just say?" she asked in a dangerous voice.

"I merely stated that you should learn your place," James said his hands folded behind his back and looking rather calm.

Then Ana Maria began yelling extremely unladylike things before throwing a punch at James, which he blocked. He didn't want to hurt her badly, so he simply shoved her into the table, causing the food to spill everywhere. Now, some more ship hands joined in. They were all in fairly foul moods to begin with, but now that their meal had been interrupted it was a dangerous thing to be in that galley. In minutes, food and tables and pieces of plates were flying everywhere.


	31. A Descent into the Maelstrom

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title chapter is the best title ever, by Edgar Allen Poe. It's too bad the story's not as good.

Chapter 31: A Descent into the Maelstrom

Meanwhile, Camille was just on deck swabbing with Priscilla and Gretchen. They could actually hear the fight from where they stood working, and a few moments later Jack could be heard dashing out of his cabin.

Camille wasted no time as the Thatchers took their positions throughout the ship. They had timed it so that Gabriel had the helm and could look in and tell Camille if Jack was coming. Priscilla was a little ways off, near the stairs. Gretchen was just below deck so that she could call up to Priscilla if Jack were to suddenly appear from the galley.

She was in the cabin, and first looked in every secret place that she knew of. The fake drawer, the tiny trapdoors under the rug, behind the broken clock…she found nothing that she had not already been aware of. She impatiently tapped her foot on the floor, looking around.

Her eyes rested on Jack's bookshelf. Of course! There were hundreds of things you could hide, or even write in a book! First she checked around the shelf. On top, behind, every crevice above of between any of the books; now it was time to check the actual books. That was fairly easy, since she had read more than half of them by now. She decided quickly that he would choose on of the books she had already read to hide them in, since he didn't have to worry about her borrowing it again and stumbling over something odd.

She took out the first few books, flipped through them, shook them. Nothing. Then she carefully put them back in order. This was going to be a thorough process, and was going to take much more time than this. She looked on his desk. There were maps spread everywhere, as usual. And a few empty bottles. Nothing out of the ordinary. But it looked like there was something underneath it.

Moving the maps carefully after remembering exactly where they were laying, she saw something amazing. There was a great Mark carved in the top of the desk. It was the skull and the snake, just like on her arm. She ran her finger over it. It had been carved so deep. Examining her finger, she saw traces of blood on her fingertips. The Mark was laced with blood? It was brown. "My God," she mumbled. Jack was going insane. Something about this Mark was making him crazy.

A knocking on the window suddenly caught her attention. Gabriel was outside, and she could tell he was warning her of Jack's return. How long had she been there?

She quickly put the maps back where they belonged, and rushed towards the door. But it was too late, she could see the edge of Jack's hat coming around the corner. She ran into the bedroom, knowing that there were other ways out of his cabin. There were a couple of doors rarely used at the other end of his bedroom. She quickly slid underneath the bed where the hanging sheets would hide her. It would be difficult to get to those doors with Jack's bedroom door wide open. But she could do it.

Jack came in to his cabin and slammed the door. "Bloody women," he muttered. "Bloody Norrington, bloody hell!" he cursed, kicking at the bookshelf. Several books fell out, and he stood there looking down at them. Why was he looking at them for so long?

Then she realized that he was looking at the rug. He knelt down slowly and felt it. Her jaw dropped open. The bottoms of her boots had been wet! And he knew by feeling the carpeting where she had stepped? She silently cursed herself, while at the same time being in awe of Jack's acute attention to detail. She was terrified, and memories of their last escalating fight flooded into her mind now.

The look of him made her heart begin pounding faster. She could feel herself starting to perspire as he slowly got up and looked around the room. He knew that someone had been in there. He turned around and narrowed his eyes, looking through onto the deck. He crossed the room and looked out the other end. A feeling of panic began rising through her. He was looking for her!

Jack scared her now. Now that he'd broken her heart for the umpteenth time, she was quite used to their arguments and fights. But this last one had really scared her, this physical and emotional change that was slowly taking him over. Why was it affecting him, and exactly what _was_ it, anyway? Whatever it was, it made the hair on the back of her neck stand straight up. And she could feel her Mark beginning to burn slightly.

He was coming nearer, searching carefully with his eyes now. He waited for any noise, any sign of movement. She prayed that one of them would think to distract him again. Unfortunately, no knock sounded at the door this time. Jack was standing in the doorway of his bedroom now. She could see his boots, and he was tapping something on the ground. It was Long John's crutch.

"Don't think ye be hidin' from me, little lady. I know yer still in here," he said loudly. His accent, it sounded different. He began walking around, and every time his foot hit the deck she shuddered.

She could feel sweat forming over her temples, and tried to quiet her breathing. It was almost like he could sense her in the room by her rapid hearbeat. She could see nothing now, and screamed as he lunged towards her and yanked her out from beneath the bed. His hands were immediately enclosed around her throat.

"What are you doing here?" Jack demanded.

"J-ja…" she tried to say his name, but he was squeezing her throat so tightly it was already hard to breathe. His hands felt like stone around her as she tried her best to loosen them a little. She struggled for air, kicking her feet violently. But all she managed to do was kick the crutch. It fell, several feet away.

Suddenly, Jack let go of her. He sat back, looking stunned. But all Camille could do was wheeze and cough.

"Get out of my cabin!" he demanded. Then he clenched his teeth. "NOW!" he bellowed.

She ran out the door, not bothering to shut it behind her. She ran through the ship until she was safe in her room. Her heart was still beating as fast as ever, even more now because of all the adrenaline from running away. But the incident had been terrifying. How was no one else noticing? His eyes had been sunken into his face, and his skin looked like tanned hide simply stretched over a skeleton. Yet, in spite of his frail appearance the ship seemed to shake under his footsteps. She continued to cough until she could catch her breath, gently feeling around her throat. It almost felt as if his fingerprints had burned themselves into her skin.


	32. Treasure Island

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is a fantastic book by Robert Louis Stevenson. Read it. Go.

Chapter 32: Treasure Island

Someone knocked three times. "Camille, it's me," Gabriel said before entering. "Good, you made it out. My God, you're whiter than a ghost!" he exclaimed. "What happened?"

She still couldn't find the strength to talk. She reached out and clutched his arm, looking at him and trying to speak. "G-gabriel," was all she could get out of her mouth before crying.

"Oh, Camille," he said gently, embracing her. "Did he strike you?"

"No, but he…"

Priscilla entered the room, in quite an excited state as well. "They've locked James in the brig!" she cried.

Gretchen came in next, and closed the door behind her. "Well, what did you expect? He got in a fistfight with Ana Maria."

"He locked her down there as well!"

"What?" Gretchen, Gabriel, and Camille exclaimed at once.

Priscilla nodded. "Yes, they've both been sentenced to being down there until we arrive at Colombia. Camille, are you all right?" she asked, noticing Camille's pale and tearstained face.

"Something's wrong with Jack," Camille stated.

"Well obviously, the man's not in his right mind," Gabriel agreed.

"No. You don't understand. He's going mad. Something is physically happening to him. He looks different. And he tried…he tried to strangle me," Camille said clearly.

"What!" all three of the Thatchers asked at the same time. But now Camille knew what she had to do. Jack's advice could no longer be taken. She had to tell them everything she knew.

"Yes, we'll get to that later. Gretchen, do you still have your mother's ring?"

Gretchen looked unsure. "It's in my drawer, in my room. Why?"

"We must get it. Everyone follow me." Camille peered out into the hallway before going down the hall to Gretchen's room. Luckily, Jack didn't know about Adrienne's ring. Once inside, the door was shut and locked.

"All right, now everyone keep your voices down. What is said in this room does not leave, is that clear to everyone?" Camille said urgently. They all nodded. She continued. "Very well. Gretchen, put on your mother's ring."

Gretchen obeyed. "Now, stretch out your hand just here, next to mine," Camille said, holding out her hand in front of a candle. "Don't worry, it doesn't hurt."

As Gabriel and Priscilla watched, Gretchen did what she was instructed to do. They all gazed at the maps that appeared on their hands, and Camille gasped. The dot that had been down by Aguadulce was still there, only it was on Gretchen's hand. "It changes maps!" she realized. "Very clever indeed. All right. As you have probably figured out, these are maps that came hidden it Adrienne's and Morgan's rings. This is why we all carry the Mark. These were the items taken from the Rune."

"It's a map of Colombia?" Priscilla asked. "Is it treasure?"

"We don't know yet. The dot was on my hand the first time we discovered the map, and then it was gone," Camille explained.

"So this is the map we are following to get to treasure," Gabriel concluded. "How do you know that it's not leading us astray to something else?"

"That's the thing. We don't know that for certain. But Jack was determined to get to Port Barranquilla and down into the city of Aguadulce, which is the area on this map. I don't know his reasoning behind it."

"Well it's too late to ask him now," Gretchen said, taking the ring off and putting it into one of her pockets. "I say we go to the Rune and return them. I have no need for any more treasure or pirate adventures."

"But the spot…wouldn't it be a clue? Couldn't it help us? It was Mother's ring, remember," Priscilla said. "I can't see why she would do anything to hurt us."

"It was her mother's and her grandmother's. It's been passed down for generations. Mother might not have even known about it," Gabriel suggested. "For all we know, it could be very dangerous."

"Either way, who are we to cross Captain Sparrow?" Camille asked. "Even if we did know anything else, I doubt there would be a way to get this by him."

"Camille, you said he went mad. What's wrong with him?" Gretchen asked.

"I don't know if I can even say, I was so frightened," she admitted, even though she was feeling a little better now. "He was so different. His body, his features, his voice. He was Jack, and yet he wasn't. I'm afraid I can't explain it any better than that. He attacked me without the slightest bit of hesitation, like he didn't recognize me. And…there was a Mark, _the_ Mark, it was carved into his desk and lined with blood!"

"That doesn't sound good," Priscilla contemplated. "Should we get him to a doctor?"

"In his state, I don't know if a doctor would benefit him or not. He would probably try to attack anyone who came near him to help. But why would the Mark affect him and not us?" Camille thought. She was trying to remember what James had told them about Long John Silver. It seemed that something of the same sort was happening to Jack. The Devil's Dowry had taken ahold of Long John the exact same way it had with Jack. Why? What was the difference between them?

"Is it…" she said, thinking aloud, "Is it because we are Sullivans and Thatchers, and they are not?"

"Possibly. They did try to falsely claim the treasure from the Rune, if you recall," Gabriel remembered.

"I think we need to speak with James about this. Don't you think he will know something?" Gretchen asked.

So they went down to the brig, and explained the entire story to James and Ana Maria. Once Ana cooled off about the fight, she was better at listening. But she was just as puzzled as they were about everything.

James sat in his cell, thinking hard. "Camille, I don't know why he would attack you of all people. I don't even see why he would threaten you as severely as he has been."

"I think that just goes to prove exactly how much he's lost his mind," Priscilla said. "That he would attack and say those awful things to her, of all people."

"But it don't make sense. I mean, I agree that he's lost his mind, but what could have made him mad? It can't simply be the Mark?" Ana wondered.

James stood up finally. "Camille, what did you say he looked like?"

"Completely different. It was…like his physical features had shifted on his face. He looked like he was in pain," she said almost hysterically.

"And you can tell when these changes come over him? Does the Mark look any different?"

"I don't know, I've never looked for the Mark on him. But after seeing the carving in the desk it's obvious, isn't it? Oh, and something else I've just remembered. When he was near me, my Mark. It seemed to burn."

James nodded. "I must think about this. If you notice anything else, inform Ana Maria or I. Every detail must be accounted for. We are dealing with a very dangerous man, but we cannot let on that we know just how dangerous he is."

Camille sighed. She didn't like this at all. Jack was a great deal smarter than they were giving him credit for, and he would figure it out. He had most likely by now figured out that the whole fight between James and Ana Maria had been staged. The only thing he didn't know about was the second ring, and who knew when he would realize it? And she was still extremely shaken up about him trying to strangle her.


	33. Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. And coincidentally, the title is another story by Robert Louis Stevenson.

Chapter 33: Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

It had been days since the incident, but Camille still found herself waking up in a cold sweat and prying imaginary fingers off her throat. She never dared to go wandering alone around the ship anymore for fear of what she might find.

They were days away from the next port, and the crew were weary. Time seemed to move slowly, and Jack was barely what anyone could call hostile toward any of them. Camille would begin thinking about the incident, but just as she was beginning to convince herself that she had imagined the whole thing her body would involuntarily shudder. No, it had been real. And so had the tavern. They had all been present for that one, but nobody ever talked about it.

The only thing that was any indication of Jack's harshness was the fact that James was still in the brig, but even that could have been looked over since he obviously harbored a strong hatred for the man. Ana Maria had been set free, of course. But something was odd about that, too.

Camille was glad to have her companion back in the galley, but as soon as Ana appeared she grabbed Camille's wrist and began forcing her towards a pantry.

"Ana, what do you think yo-"

"Just hush, and do as I say!" Ana whispered harshly. Moments later, the two of them were crammed very uncomfortably in that small place. "There's no safe place to talk here. I got something to tell ya from James."

"What?"

Ana Maria looked at her very seriously. "He wants me to tell you that you should look in the desk. He said that you'd know what I meant."

Camille searched her memory, trying to interpret his words. Search in the desk? What desk? She shook her head and pushed the door open. It was horribly uncomfortable in there.

The rest of the evening went by as if there had never been the slightest change in Jack's mood. Everyone was jolly, and drinking and singing after dinner. The Thatchers and Camille knew not to lead on that they were the slightest bit suspicious about the recent strange affairs, and Ana Maria knew as well. After dinner, Jack called a meeting in his cabin about the map.

"Well," he began, propping his feet comfortably up on the table. "The seas are calm, the winds are strong. With a bit of luck we could be there in a matter of weeks," Jack said gaily, cradling his rum. Camille stole a glance at him now and then, and he looked normal. Maybe a bit tired, but all of the weariness and ferocity of his presence was nonexistent.

"I'm concerned with what we will do after we get to Colombia, Captain," Gabriel lied. Jack had been shockingly indifferent to him, which was the opposite that anyone expected.

"I know exactly what to do, lad. Celebrate," he announced, and then laughed merrily before taking a gulp of rum. He patted Gabriel on the back, and he smiled uncomfortably.

Ana Maria looked at him strangely. "You sure are in a fine mood this evening, Captain. I suppose our worries will be over once we rid ourselves of this Mark?"

"Aye."

"Well, that's good news," Gretchen said, trying to meet Camille's eye. She finally did, and through the lighthearted conversation was able to convey that she was extremely confused by Jack's behavior, as were they all. They all remained in his cabin for over an hour, and by the end of it their suspicions of Captain Sparrow's descent into madness were reduced.

They were all excusing themselves for the evening slowly, all laughing with relief, when Jack placed his hand on Camille's shoulder just before she set her foot outside the door. "I'd like to have a word with you, Quartermaine."

Her heart leapt in her chest. This emotional turbulence was almost too much for her to bear. But when she turned around to face him, she knew that she wasn't imagining things. He was the mad Jack again.

He kicked the door closed. "Is there anything that you _can't_ tell the entire ship?" he asked in an annoyed tone. "You nearly ruined my reputation. Now I've wasted an entire evening undoing the damage you've done when I could've been committing murder in the brig."

"You mean…you bastard!" she hissed through her teeth. He had convinced everyone that he was perfectly sane now with that little get together. Now it would be very difficult to get them to believe otherwise again. "And James has done nothing to you."

"Except chased me and tried to hang me."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh honestly, he was no threat to you. Do you really think he could ever put _you_ into such a dangerous position so that you couldn't escape him?"

Jack grinned maliciously. "It doesn't make his death any less fun for me."

Her arm began burning. "Ouch!" she said, putting her hand over it. Her Mark felt like it was pulsing. She took a step or two back, and felt the pain subside.

"Yes, the Mark is growing stronger," Jack said thoughtfully. "Which means that we are very close. So close," he said, stepping up to Camille and placing his hand on her neck, "That we can almost _taste_ it."

Her arm burned again, she slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me, you monster!" she exclaimed. As he stepped back, she could see beneath his coat a wooden object. He caught her looking at it and immediately wrapped it tighter around himself.

"You are no longer the man that I knew," Camille continued, trying to think. What would he have that was made of wood?

"And what of you? I think I would sorely mistaken if I were to think for a second that you were the naïve young woman that blindly gave her heart to a loathsome pirate." His words were cleverly spoken, and he said them with such disdain that he cut her deeply.

"Well, we all make mistakes," she said quietly, reaching for the door handle. Before she let herself out, she glanced past him to his desk. The desk! The drawer was open; the one with all of the trinkets he had presented to herself and James the first day of their voyage.

She walked across the deck, looking to see if Jack was following her. She leaned against the banister, thinking. So that's what James had meant. Look in Jack's desk. What would she find in there that would give her the slightest clue? And how would she even get in there? Jack had fooled everyone, but he never hesitated to lie to Camille about his evil side. She would not be able to search his cabin a second time.


	34. The Lover Tells of the Rose in His Heart

A/N: Due to the overwhelming comments I got, I am posting this. But I'm not gonna post again for awhile, I'm having a bout of writer's block, plus I'm horribly busy with school. But I never meant for you to hate Jack, I love him dearly. My goal is to make this a realistic love story. Jack and Camille love each other, but their just like anyone else with their ups and downs. So here's a long chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is a poem by W.B. Yeats.

Chapter 34: The Lover Tells of the Rose in His Heart.

"Jack my love, don't leave me," her voice begged. He kicked the blankets off his bed, tossing and turning until the pain in his arm woke him up. He leapt to his feet, wanting to avoid sleep as long as possible. Jack found that he could go days without sleeping. Once he had even made it an entire week, but in the end had passed out in the hold. His entire body ached. His mouth was dry, but he refused to eat or drink anything when he was in this state. He would rather starve to death than endure this torture.

He longed for Camille's touch, but even more than her love he desired her safety. As long as she loved him she would never be safe from the danger. But if she hated him she could leave him in an instant. And the further away she kept at this point, the better.

_Pathetic. You lovesick fool. To be controlled by a mere woman_. "Shut up!" he growled. "At least I'm free to be as foolish as I want over a woman." _Yes, you're about as free as a slave. Your survival depends on me now._ "I will never depend on you." _Just give up._ _Your body is weakening quickly. Ye'll not be able to fight me much longer, Jack. _He put his hands up to his ears. "Argh!" he cried out angrily. "No, I won't let you harm her!" _It'll only be a bit more than you've done to her, Jack. Besides, she'll figure it out sooner or later. The lass is a clever one. She already suspects it's the crutch._

Frustrated, exhausted, and a great deal closer to death than anyone else on board that ship, Jack collapsed in the middle of his cabin.

"I can't believe we're finally landing! It does seem forever since I've had a bath!" Priscilla beamed the next afternoon. They were very close to docking at the next port.

"Yes," agreed Gretchen. "I could use a bit of pampering myself. And not to mention a hot meal."

"Stop right there, you're going to make my mouth begin to water if you continue with any further talk of meals," Gabriel said. "Camille, are you all right? You've done nothing but stare out at the sea all day," he inquired.

"Hm?" Camille was lifted from her daze. She was torn between anxiety and relief over landing. Should they make a run for it? If she tried to convince the others now, there would be a lot of questions. The only one who might understand her reasoning was James, whom Jack was probably going to kill fairly soon. "Oh, yes. Yes, I'm fine. Just a bit tired is all."

Gabriel nodded, but she could tell that he didn't really believe her. He gently touched her arm. "Don't worry. You won't have to deal with _him_ much longer."

Once the party was in Port Barados, they did their usual routine. Bathed, went shopping, stocked up on supplies, and checked into an inn. Camille had been carefully contemplating her course of action this entire time. She sat in her room, impatiently looking at the clock. It was now just after midnight. She had to make her decision soon.

_All right, Camille_, she told herself. She had to buckle down and think about everything that James had explained to her. Jack was different somehow. She couldn't put her finger on it. His Mark, along with the rest of theirs, was burned into his skin now. She sighed, rolling up her sleeve. And to her astonishment, nothing was there. She gasped, turning her arm around this way and that. There was absolutely nothing there! Not even the slightest trace that there had ever been a mark.

She gasped, becoming alert when she heard a cry. It sounded like a man, and it sounded angry. It was coming from next door.

She got to her feet, quietly letting herself into the hallway. She stopped just outside Jack's door, with her sleeve still rolled up. She could hear him moving around inside, mumbling things to himself. She listened, leaning against the wall. She could hear him continue to grunt, moving every once in awhile like he was turning in his sleep.

She hesitated, but when she was sure that he was asleep she went to open the door. Just her hand hovered above the doorknob, she jumped in fright. "No, stay away!" Jack cried.

She could hear Jack get to his feet. His boots sounded on the floorboards, and as he got closer she looked at her arm. The Mark was slowly starting to form with each step Jack took.

She looked at her arm, contemplating this while trying to calm down her beating heart. What did all of this mean? "Hmmm," she accidentally said aloud, not realizing it until a moment later when she felt a gun barrel against her head.

"Don't stand in the doorway, lass. It's rude," Jack said menacingly, pulling her inside and locking the door. He spun her around to face him. "So," he said, cocking the gun. "Still meddling in other's affairs, are we? How unladylike."

"You know me better than anyone, Captain. Have I ever been much of a lady?"

"No, I s'pose not," he said, taking the pistol away from her head. As he put it back in its holster, she could see very clearly a wooden crutch hanging at Jack's side. What was he still doing with Long John's crutch? Then it all hit her.

Of course! The crutch! It had the Mark on it, and had reacted with Jack's Mark on that day that James was retelling the story to them. It was the crutch that had been setting off the Marks. That had to be why Jack was so intent on killing James. James had figured it out!

"Well, I guess it isn't really any big mystery why I'm here," Camille managed to say. She just had to keep him talking until she was able to get her hand on that crutch.

Jack looked at her, his face twisted but trying to look pleasant. "Finally realized the error of your ways?" he said, once again reaching for his gun. He was in too much pain to deal with her right now.

She sighed. "I have."

This took both sides of Jack, especially the evil one, completely by surprise. "Oh, really?"

"Yes. Jack, you're suffering. Anyone can see that. You've been tormented…being on that ship at sea without any pleasurable company. I've treated you terribly, not being there for you when you needed me most."

Jack grinned. A beautiful woman was still all the enticement that Jack Sparrow needed to forget his current predicament. And she was practically throwing herself at his feet.

She stepped up to him, feeling her Mark burn as she did so. She reached out to put her arms around him, and he pulled back. She tried to laugh it off, but it was very odd. "Afraid of a woman's touch, are we? Well, then. I'll just let you touch me," she said, beginning to unbutton her shirt.

This was all she needed, as Jack's gaze fell to her chest. Both sides of him longed for a woman's touch. She kicked the crutch out of its place inside his coat. He cried out in surprise as it sailed across the room and landed in the far corner. She breathed a sigh of relief as the pain in her arm subsided.

The look on Jack's face was mixed. He looked at her with fear, but the same time seemed to be very relieved. But this time she could read his face, because it was him again. "Jack," she said.

He looked at her, and then back at the crutch like he didn't realize what she had just done. Then he looked back at her.

"It's the crutch, isn't it?"

He took a deep breath. "We need to talk," he said, still recovering. The color was now returning to his face a little more, and he seemed to be filling out a bit.

She nodded. "I think that would be a good idea."

But she was so close to him right now, looking at him with those beautiful eyes. He wanted to tell her everything, even though he would put her life in danger by doing so. He put his finger up. "But first, there's something I need to get out of the way." He lunged towards Camille and took her almost completely by surprise as he clawed at her shirt like a wild animal.

It didn't take her more than a second to react with equal lust, though. She had been going crazy without sex for so long, and sucked on Jack's neck as he pulled her corset off. He tackled her onto the bed, and it seemed more like a wrestling match than any sort of loving. But it was a whole lot of fun, and afterwards Camille just wanted to cry out with joy like she had already done so many times.

Jack leaned over her, balancing on his elbows and running his hands through her hair. He kissed her on the forehead, whispering in her ear before he pulled away. "I'm sorry if I was too rough."

But she grabbed him and enveloped his body again, giving him a passionate kiss that meant no apology was needed. She was feeling the exact same way, with the exact same primordial instinct. "Jack, just hold me," she said afterwards. She didn't want to talk about the Devil's Dowry or the crutch, or anything that had happened recently.

But finally, Jack lay beside her. His rough hands played with her breasts, and she smiled as his rings tickled against her nipples. He gently kissed her shoulder, leaning against it and sighing contently. "I don't suppose we could stay this content forever, eh?"

"Just for tonight, Jack," she begged, rolling over and curling up next to his chest. "Let's not think of anything else. Just fall asleep in my arms, love."

Jack was already halfway there. He pulled the covers over them, holding her against him tightly. "Aye."


	35. Pro and Con

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is from _20,000 Leagues Under the Sea_ by Jules Verne.

Author's note: I AM SO SORRY! I haven't updated because my laptop keeps overheating and shutting down so I have to get it fixed, and that's where all of my writing is. I am going to work so hard to finish this before July 7th, because Dead Man's Chest looks like it's gonna be so freakin' awesome that it just owns my story.

CHAPTER 35: Pro and Con

When she woke up, Jack was already dressing. She watched as he looked at himself in the mirror. His expression was so full of sadness that it nearly broke her heart.

"Jack?" she said gently, fluffing up her pillow a bit more. He spun around, putting his other arm into his shirt. "Jack…darling, what's wrong? You make me want to cry when you look like that."

He sat down on the bed next to her, moving her hair behind her ears. His eyes were actually sad, an emotion she'd never really seen in them before. "I should have never let you leave Port Celebros with me."

She pushed his arm away and sat up, moving the covers so that she could crawl out of bed. "Oh Jack, please," she said, reaching for her clothes. He handed her corset to her. "Stop-thank you. Stop trying to protect me," she said, slipping into her underthings. "If I wanted a man to protect me, I would have chosen William over you a long time ago."

Saying this made Jack feel a little better, because he knew deep down that it was true. Camille didn't like to be protected anymore; she had been protected her entire life. She liked having Jack by her side as an equal, not a domineering male. He smiled weakly.

"Now," she said, putting her shirt on and straightening out the covers. She resumed her place on the bed next to him. "Tell me about Long John's crutch. Why is it reacting with all of our Marks? And why is it giving you some sort of duel personality? Tell me everything, Jack."

Jack looked hesitant. "I can't exactly be sure why, but I imagine that somehow I was able to become a host to that thing. Did you notice how drastically my physical appearance changed?"

"A host? My God, are you saying that the crutch is able to _control_ you? Jack, that's terrifying!" she said, clutching onto him.

"Well, not so much terrifying as painful. The Mark was prevalent all the time. I can still feel it burning into my flesh."

"It makes perfect sense, though. We need to release James from the brig," Camille suggested. "He's the one that knew about the crutch. He suggested that I look in your desk in the first place."

But Jack rolled his eyes. "I can't stand him, Camille. And Long John hates him even more than I do."

"What does Long John have to do with this?" she said as they stood up.

Jack just looked at her. "Don't you understand? It was Long John Silver who's trying to take over me. His soul somehow was able to reside in that crutch."

Camille's face grew pale. "So then he knows _everything_?"

Jack nodded. "Aye," he said gravely. "Everything that I know, he knows. And it does not work the other way around."

"Then we leave it here."

But he shook his head. "No, Camille. I know very little, but I do know this much. His soul is growing stronger. He needs a host. Anyone who touches that crutch will be the next. And with the ring, he can easily be reincarnated."

Camille gasped. "Oh my God," she said. "So what's going to happen when we get to Colombia?"

"I don't know, love. But I wouldn't get too excited about it if I were you."

She looked at him. "There has to be a way to defeat this and get rid of these rings. Perhaps the people of Aguadulce will be more familiar with this than we are." She put her hand on his cheek.

He sighed. Her touch gave him so much of his strength back. "Perhaps." He still felt a horrible sinking feeling inside.

Camille caught on and hugged him. "Don't. You always told me never to regret anything. I am more than capable of handling myself."

And so the plot thickened. Jack and Camille brought the crutch back aboard the _Pearl_, wrapped up so that it would not be touched. Jack was, in fact, aware of the two rings. And that meant that Long John Silver was, as well. So the group, plus James, who was released from the brig, decided to trade both of the rings back and forth between themselves as often as possible. That way, Jack wouldn't know who had the rings. Their plan seemed as if it was going to work out, but Long John was not so easily defeated, even if he was at the moment an inanimate object.


	36. Accident or Incident?

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 36: Accident or Incident?

"Land ho!"

In another instant, all hands were on deck. Cheers rang out everywhere, for they were in sight of Colombia. Finally, it would be over. At least, that was what they hoped.

Gretchen looked on from the crow's nest. Being on the _Black Pearl_ had made a remarkable improvement upon her. Her skin had a healthy-looking color to it, instead of being ivory. Her hair was naturally curly, and was constantly being blown about by the wind. She was no longer afraid of anything which she had been previous to the journey.

Priscilla was toughened a bit, too. She was still pleasant as ever with the crew, but she had become very swift. She was a very good little thief, and as valuable a pirate as any of them.

Gabriel of course, hadn't changed much at all. He had been courageous and full of strength to begin with. And surprisingly enough, it was becoming most obvious that Ana Maria, of all women, was beginning to fancy him. She stood beside him, talking softly with him.

James stood there, with his hands neatly folded behind his back. He and Sparrow were no closer to being friends, but that surprised no one.

Camille was beside herself with joy. She wanted to get rid of the Mark on her skin, and to have this curse over and done with. She wanted to destroy the crutch and the rings, because she no longer wanted to see Jack suffer anymore.

She turned around to go to his cabin, but right there as soon as she turned around was enough to make her scream. It was Jack, but he had the crutch with him. Camille's eyes widened. "Captain Silver!" she cried.

The rest turned around, shocked. And Jack/John just threw his head back and laughed. "Well hello there, missy. Didn't think ye could rid o' me that easily?"

Camille's mouth hung open as he shouted orders to the crew. "Gentlemen! These six have betrayed us! Do not let them out of your sight!" he commanded.

Camille could feel rough hands on her. She struggled. "Don't touch me!" she screamed, throwing a few punches. It took two men to hold her, and just about three to contain James.

But Jack put his hands up. "Now, now. Do behave, Miss Quartermaine," he said, making his way up to her. She clenched her teeth together as the Mark burned again into her arm. He held her chin steady and looked at her. "After all, I do need your blood one way or another."

She growled at him. The rest were having any weapons taken from them, and their arms bound. Even poor Mr. Gibbs was being closely guarded. Camille stomped on the foot of one of her captors, and he howled in pain as he hopped up and down for a moment.

Jack looked at her sternly. "Miss Quartermaine, that is quite enough. I don't want to kill you. I'd rather have you walk than be a rotting corpse when I get to me treasure. Let her go." The other man let her go, and she stood trembling in front of Jack. He was taller! "Well I must admit, Captain Silver, the physical change is quite an improvement," she attempted to flatter him.

But he held her by the wrist. "I'll not fall for your tricks again, ye manipulative woman. I were a fool the first time, but not now."

"All right, then," she said before punching him in the face. He cried out, feeling the blood from his lip.

"How dare you hit me! How dare you hit Jack! You ungrateful little bitch!" he shouted, lunging for her and struggling with her for a minute. He held her tightly in his grip, holding his sword out against her throat. She tried to push it off, but was afraid of him pressing any tighter. "Now, will ye be cooperatin' with me, or do I have to make myself guilty of yet _another _murder?"

"And how's that going to work?" Norrington asked cheekily. "Are they going to arrest Jack or the crutch?" Then he was punched in the stomach.

Things didn't look good for any of them now. Silver was not going to let Camille live any longer than she had to, and they were nearly there. The lights of the town could already be seen from the ship.

"Captain!" a voice said from above. They looked up. A man was looking with his spyglass extended. "There be another ship gainin' on us!"

Jack took the sword away from Camille's throat, but kept his tight grip on her as he forced her to the side of the ship with him. It didn't take any magnification to see all the redcoats on the ship. "Gillette," Jack muttered, and for once he and Camille felt the same way about something.

But Camille didn't see only red and blue coats aboard that ship. Amid suffering from Jack's hard crushing grip, she could make out another figure aboard. Jack was looking through his spyglass, and all of a sudden became fiercer. "Mr. Kensington! Hard a-port! Show me what this ship's made of!" he barked without taking his eyes off the nearing ship.

"Aye, sir!"

Camille didn't say anything, because his grip on her was quite painful enough by now with the addition of the burning Mark on her arm. But Jack (or Captain Silver, rather) was afraid of something or someone on that ship. "Captain, you're hurting me," she stated.

He looked at her cruelly. "Ye've got real gall, d'you know that?"

"Yes, I've been told many times before."

"I am really going to enjoy watching you die."

"Yes, I'll bet you will. And then you'll never get sex again."

"What was that?" he demanded.

"Do you really think another woman will ever be attracted to you with a face like that? It's the sort that only a mother could love."

He slapped her, so hard that it stung. But she had to say something else. He was becoming very irate now, and she could grab the crutch with one more comment. "And if you haven't already figured it out, you'll be commanding a very small crew-"

That did it. Jack pushed her hard against the side of the ship so that she fell over. As she did, she grabbed the crutch. He kicked her in the side, but she managed to get to her feet quickly and run across the deck.

The Thatchers, Ana Maria, and James had been watching. So had some of their guards. But most of the men were focusing on getting that ship prepared to land. There were pulling into the port now, and ropes and planks were being lowered. Not many had even noticed the abrupt changes in Jack.

Camille put her hand to her side, grimacing. There was going to be a large bruise there. Jack looked at her, frowning. "Where d'you think ye can go? You're on a ship, Quartermaine, not yer father's residence. Ye'll not be safe by runnin'."

But she just looked at him. And that conveyed her thoughts clearly enough. His eyes widened, and then narrowed. "You wouldn't. It's far too dangerous."

"You underestimate me far too much, Long John," she said. She quickly balanced herself on the side of the ship and jumped off. She dove below the ship, making sure to go far below the hull and swim up under it. She had only done this once before, and was terrified of what could go wrong. But she focused on getting to that other ship.

The water was not too cold, but a little uncomfortable. She stayed under as long as she could hold her breath and then resurfaced. She quickly looked around, making sure that she was headed in the right direction. She didn't know if Jack/Silver would try to follow her or not. Her guess was not, since he had a ship full of hostages. And she was right. Jack would never have left the _Pearl_ to go chasing after one person. But Long John would.

And he did. He was in the water, very close to her. This made her panic, since she had not been expecting to see him in the water at all. _I shouldn't have looked at him_, she thought as she kicked harder to get to the other ship. A rope was being tossed down to her now. She grabbed it with stiff fingers. She could hear cries and shouts to pull up, and in minutes she was on the deck.

She was sitting in front of a pair of very familiar boots. Will knelt down beside her, and she threw her arms around him. "I knew it! I knew it was you!" she cried happily.


	37. The Clod and the Pebble

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a poem by William Blake, one of my favorite authors.

A/N: Okay, I have two endings in mind, but I can't decide which one. One is happy, but completely out of character for Jack. The other one is more what I think that he would do, but it constitutes a not so happy ending. Which one should I write, my faithful readers? Or should I try both, maybe?

Chapter 37: The Clod and the Pebble

"Camille, I…get her a blanket!" Will shouted as he stood up, helping her to her feet. "Are you all right?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No, Silver is here, he's back!" she said, running to the side of the ship. "Don't let him on the ship!"

Will followed her. "What? Long John is with you?"

"He's Jack, Jack is Long John. I can't explain it right now, Will I don't see him! He's gone! He is on the ship, he was right behind me!" she ranted.

"Camille, you must calm down," Will said as he tried wrapping the blanket around her. But she pushed it off.

"No!" she protested. And she took a deep breath. "Long John's crutch was marked by the Devil's Dowry, which somehow contains his soul and is reincarnating within Jack!"

Will looked at her for a second, trying to comprehend what she had just said to him. She nodded. "It's true, Will. He knows everything we do."

"I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut, you miserable wench," Jack said. He was just behind them, shaking his boots off. Will and any of the hands that were on deck aimed their pistols/bayonets at him.

He just rolled his eyes. "I don't believe for a second that you're going to shoot me."

"He's right. It's Jack," Camille said tiredly.

"My God," Will said, still keeping his pistol steady. "He looks terrible."

"Thank you," Jack shot sarcastically. He was changing even more, right in front of their very eyes. Camille turned away, but Will kept his pistol aimed.

"Let him go, or I'll have no choice but to shoot you both," Will threatened.

"Still an idiot, I see Mr. Turner," Jack said. "Now give me the lass, or simply a part of her and let's stop all o' this nonsense."

"A part of her?" Will questioned.

"Blood," they both said at the same time.

Then Camille realized just how fatigued she was from swimming. And, she could now feel the pain from being kicked in the ribs. She staggered a bit, ready to fall over and pass out. But Will steadied her. "Keep your guns on him," he said. "If he moves, kill him."

Camille looked at him. "Will?" Then she remembered that he and Jack were still furious with each other. Perhaps this wasn't the best time to be rescued, after all.

But he turned to her. "I know you won't listen to me, but you need to go and get some rest. I can take care of this, we're almost to Port Barranquilla."

But she shook her head. "No. We need to talk. Put him in the brig," she advised him.

"What's going on out here?" Gillette asked, appearing in his blue commodore's outfit which he didn't deserve at all.

"Commodore, we've found him," Will said before Gillette could see Jack. "We've found Captain Sparrow."

"Very good, Mr. Turner. Lock him up, men," Gillette announced.

Camille stayed there, clinging onto Will. Gillette was still far enough away that they could speak safely. "He doesn't know about the rings, does he?" she asked Will.

"No. I do."

"And you persuaded him with Jack's arrest?"

"It was the only way I could get a ship to Colombia. Need I remind you that not many officials are impressed with my position these days?"

"Will, what are we going to do? That _thing_ has Jack!"

"Well, I can't say that he didn't deserve it."

"William! He needs our help!"

"He's a fool if he thinks I'm getting him out of this one. He brought this upon himself, and now he's convinced you and the Thatchers. He's putting every one of us in danger, Camille."

Her eyes widened. She let go of him, standing by herself now and grimacing in pain. She couldn't believe that she was hearing this from Will. It made her wonder what words had been exchanged before the stormy departure. Both of them had been in foul moods because of it. "Will, what exactly did Jack say to you?"

"That is nobody's business but my own," Will said fiercely.

Camille knew that pushing this was useless, and she was more concerned with Jack's well being. She was shown to her room, where she changed her clothes and relaxed a little. Her side ached still, but now she finally had the chance to catch her breath. She hadn't realized it before, but after all of that she was trembling.

She obviously could not rely on Will to help Jack, and she was still a little puzzled as to why he, of all people, was there by Colombia. Had he and Gillette had some sort of agreement? What kind of motives would Will have? Camille knew that material things had never been of much interest to him, so it wasn't the treasure. He was still beyond furious with Jack, so it hadn't been to save Jack. And it would be downright self-centered to think that Will had come all this way to rescue her. What about the Thatchers? Did they have some special interest to him?

It was all enshrouded in mystery, as had been her life lately. There had to be something she could do to save Jack. After all, it was only ghost that possessed him. Perhaps this would be her ultimate test as to whether she was fit enough to be a pirate.

She slept a little, but in the middle of the night made her way down to the brig. It was guarded, of course. But the guards weren't really a threat to her. She made her way to the cell, as Jack groaned.

"What in the bloody hell do you want now, you awful woman?" he asked as he woke up.

She took a seat in front of the cell, making herself comfortable. "A proposal."

"Well I am quite flattered, but I don't quite see myself as a one woman man. Especially when I'm most likely going to kill that woman," Jack/Silver said.

Camille sighed. "Not a marriage proposal, Captain Silver."

"Ah, so it's back to callin' me 'Captain' again, eh? You really think there is anything you could say to make me release my hold on your beloved captain? The man killed me."

"To be fair, you intended to kill him far before then. And you've done worse, might I add."

"Logic ain't gonna get you nowhere, lass. You're dealin' with a madman, and a demonic one at that."

"I am going to get right to my point. Release Jack,-"

"No."

"-and I give you my word that I will give the crutch to another sailor. He can be your host."

Jack/Silver threw his head back and laughed. "Quartermaine, you are so naïve!" he chuckled. "To think that I would fall for such a thing."

"I'm not lying. Look at me, I am promising. Even consult Jack, however you do that. I'm a downright terrible liar, he knows it."

Jack stopped laughing, and got a serious expression on his face. "I don't want another body. I like this one just fine. And best of all, I get to torture Jack until the transformation is complete, which should be soon now."

"Transformation? So you are going to become Long John Silver again?"

He grinned. "Aye."

"Then wouldn't you rather face Sparrow so that you could watch him die by your own hands?"

"He's already more than half dead, darlin'."

She gripped the bars, almost sticking her head through them. "Please, John. Any body you want, I will give the crutch to them. Just not Jack."

He actually considered it, partly because of the way she had spoken to him and partly because she was so innocent and sincere about it. She really would do anything for Jack.

She bit her lip, prepared to make her sacrifice to save Jack. Silver was going to choose her as the host, he knew that it would do the most damage. And it would still torture Jack constantly. She held her breath, watching him think.

"I want Mr. Turner," he said.

"What?" she cried. She had not been expecting that as an answer at all. "Will? Never!"

"So be it. The change is almost complete," he said calmly.

"All right! All right, you can have Will," she said. "I'll give him the crutch while he sleeps."

"Look at me, so I know you are not lying to me."

She looked into his eyes and swallowed. They looked so different from Jack, it frightened her to do so. But she looked at him straight on. "I give you my word, Captain Silver," she said, putting her hand through the bars.

He reached back and took the crutch from the place in his coat. She wrapped her dress around her hand and took it as he held it out. When she did, Jack's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell to the ground. She dropped the crutch immediately and picked the lock.

His body looked so emaciated and worn out. She knelt down over his unconscious figure, cringing as his features changed slowly. She could feel her mark pulsing a bit less, and could see that his was as well. She put her hand over his chest, feeling for a heartbeat.

In another second, he took a deep breath and groaned as his eyes attempted to open. She took the little leather flask she had at her side and some on her fingers, wetting his lips with brandy. He coughed, with a little bit of color returning to his face. He took another deep breath, and lifted his arm up.

"You shouldn't try to move, Jack. You're extremely weak," she said gently.

But he continued to grope around the floor of the cell until he managed to get the flask from her. He took it, raising it to his lips and drinking the remainder of it.

Camille rolled her eyes. "The situation looks grimmer every moment, and you can still drink brandy?"

"Well I need my strength," he said, sitting up slowly.

"Jack, are you all right?" she asked, helping him sit up against the hull.

"Yes, yes darling, I'm fine," he said, but she could see that he was still awfully worn out.

She adjusted his bandana. "Is there anything I can get you? Besides brandy or rum?"

Jack sighed. "I s'pose not. Have we learned our lesson yet?"

"You mean about not meddling with cursed treasure? I don't know Jack, it seems to be forever haunting us. Perhaps we should burn the crutch."

"Or break it into tiny pieces and drop it off at the bottom of the sea."

"That sounds like a brilliant idea," she said. She wanted to ask him what he and Will had argued about, but she knew it was best to let him recover a bit first. Besides, he would have to deal with Will soon enough. Right now, she was happy to have a conversation with him and not Long John Silver's demon or ghost, or whatever possessed that crutch. She wanted to ask him about the tavern, and about nearly strangling her to death.

"You need to eat something, Captain."

But he shook his head. "No. If I touch that crutch again, the two of us can die of starvation."

"Jack, you are talking like a madman again. Silver is not going to take over you again, because in order to do that he's got to go through me."

He shook his head, grinning. "I don't think he'll want to mess with that," he said, giving in.

"I don't think so, either. I'll be right back, Captain," she said, excusing herself from the small cell. She appeared moments later with food and drink for him. And since the guards were still knocked out, they didn't worry much about the noise. But things were still on Camille's mind.

"Jack," she said slowly. "I need to know something."

He knew by the tone of her voice what she was going to ask him. He shook his head. "No, darling. It's in the past, just leave it be. What's done is done."

She sighed. "That may be, but I need you to be honest with me about one thing. You were Long John both of those times…in the tavern, were you not?"

He took a deep breath. He was a much better liar than she, but his conscience was still as strong as anyone's. So he felt a slight pang of guilt when he nodded. "Of course I was."

She felt a great sense of relief after hearing that. She thought for sure that he had been himself when he'd slept with that other woman, but now she knew she'd been foolish to think that Jack had cheated on her. She smiled. "Really? Oh, that makes me feel so much better." She got to her feet. "I'd better get going. I am supposed to be 'recovering'. I'll see you soon, hopefully," she said, stooping to kiss him.

"Yes, goodbye," he replied in a melancholy tone. But she was in such high spirits that she didn't notice it. Before leaving the brig, she kicked the crutch into a corner.


	38. Same Old Song and Dance

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is and Aerosmith song.

Chapter 38: Same Old Song and Dance

A pounding sounded at the door, interrupting her perfect sleep. It was Will, and he would not stop. "Camille!" He shouted. "Camille, are you in there?"

She moaned and lifted her head off the pillow. "Yes, William what is it?" she asked in an annoyed tone.

"Are you decent? May I enter?" he asked, sounding a bit calmer.

She sat up, shuffling the covers off. "Yes," she said, running her hand through her tangled hair. She moaned again and rubbed her eyes as Will burst in.

"Jack is missing," he announced.

"What? William, that's impossible. He's in the brig. And he's not strong enough to break free by any means," she explained tiredly.

"We've searched the entire ship, he is not anywhere to be found," Will said sternly.

She got out of bed and reached for a hairbrush, but could see Will's expression in the mirror as she did so. She put the brush down, still facing the mirror. "You think that I have something to do with this, don't you?" she asked, spinning around to face him. "I don't know anything about this, Will," she protested. "But we have got to find him quickly."

"Camille, what is this about?"

She pushed passed him and exited the room. "I've already explained it to you this is all Long John's doing," she said, hurrying down to the brig. To her relief, the crutch was still in the corner where she'd kicked it. But as she looked around, the thing that caught her curiosity was Jack's empty cell. She looked at it, putting her hands on her hips.

"It was locked and everything when Gillette and I came down here this morning. I don't see any way he could have escaped without being caught," Will said, following Camille in.

"Well, what did you expect? He is Captain Jack Sparrow after all," Camille said, not really believing it herself. She was really impressed. Getting out of jail cells was easy, but getting past the Navy was not.

"What's this?" As she turned around, she was Will bending over, about to pick up the crutch.

"NO!" she shouted. Will straightened up immediately, surprised at her strong objection. "You can't touch that. It's Silver. His soul resides in that crutch somehow."

"But how-"

"None of us know, Will. But I think that it may be part of this curse. And besides, he's after you."

"Me?" Will asked. "Why would Long John want anything to do with me?"

She carefully gripped it with her dress, making sure to wrap it. "I sort of promised him that I would let you be his host if he let Jack go free."

"You…you what?"

"Well, it was obviously a lie to make him release Jack. But he's going to be after you, at least this wretched thing is. I think I'd be careful."

"You told him that you would hand me over to him?" Will said incredulously, still stuck on the idea.

"William, please lower your voice. I'm still a bit tired from everything. We need to get rid of this crutch." She began ascending the steps back into the main part of the ship with Will following her, demanding an explanation. But by now she was pretty much deaf to anything he had to say. "Men," she muttered.

She stood at the bow of it, looking over into the waves. They were at Port Barranquilla, but she saw no sign at all of _The Pearl_. Looking into the water, she hesitated. Dropping the crutch in right here could have some very serious repercussions. Perhaps she should simply hide it away somewhere until she had the opportunity to burn it.

She wasn't worried about Jack or the others. It was highly probable that Jack was with the others by now, and even if he wasn't they were with Ana and Gabriel. What Camille didn't know was what to do now, especially since she was stuck with the entire damned Navy and Will, who was very insistent on this being too dangerous for her.

The men were getting ready to raise the gangplank and go ashore. Gillette came over to them, nodding. "Good work, Mr. Turner, very good work. We will have this pirate hanged in the just systems of Port Royale in no time at all. And good morning to you, Miss Quartermaine," he said, reaching for her hand.

She pulled away from him. "I need to go change," she excused herself. The clothes that she had on at this point were filthy, but the only other clothes on that vessel were fancy dresses. She was able to manage to squeeze into one without putting on a corset, but she felt like her breasts would pop out of it any minute.

As she made her way back on deck, men were already leaving the ship. She watched them carefully, observing all of the directions they went out in. The way they did their search, Jack would be aware of their presence in no time at all.

Will stood on deck, waiting for her. He had his hands folded behind his back, and was looking out to the port. He looked very composed, and it was hard for her to believe that he had once been a wreck over a year ago.

"How is Cadence doing?" Camille asked, again practicing her British accent.

Will looked at her. "I miss her, Camille. I want to return to the estate as soon as I possibly can."

She nodded. "I can understand that. I want to get this over and done with, as well. And to do that, we must find the others."

Will nodded. "All right," he said, and she could tell that he had been thinking about it and was now able to make a calmer decision. "Shall we outwit Gillette yet again?"

Camille nodded. "He's the least of my worries," she said, tightening her grip on the bag that she held with the crutch in it. "Right now we've just got to get rid of this thing."

Will nodded, and the two of them descended the gangplank, making there way inconspicuously among the sailors of Port Barranquilla. They made their way to the edge of the dock where a young boy was standing. As soon as they came close enough, he got to his feet and ran up to them. "Carry your bags, sir?" he asked anxiously.


	39. A man's worth is no greater than his

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a quote by Marcus Aurelius.

Chapter 39: A man's worth is no greater than his ambitions

Will handed him the bags. "Yes, thank you. The inn is that way," he directed the boy.

"Are we staying at the same inn as the Navy?" Camille asked.

"Yes. We must at least pretend we are looking to rescue the Thatchers."

"I suppose so. I wonder what Norrington's role is in all of this is? He's been extremely helpful to us in figuring out the specifics of this."

Will nodded. "I suppose he wants to get back the dignity that Gillette stole from him."

"Yes, but there must be more to it than that. After all, he did sign on with a pirate ship. But anyhow, we need to get down to Aguadulce as fast as possible. And to do that, we have to either find a guide or the captain. And I don't think that the latter will be too possible."

"I agree. But let's talk of that later. Here we are," he said, as they came to the inn. The boy was still ahead of them, taking the bags ups to the rooms. He nodded to them and proceeded back downstairs.

That evening Camille found herself incredibly bored. Having the various luxuries of not being on a ship was always tolerable, but it was the people she could never stand. Women fanning themselves and making small talk, men being ever so polite even though they were constantly thinking about making love to all of those women…she would have been gone by now if it hadn't been for Will.

"So is everything accounted for?" Will asked.

"Yes, it is locked in my bedroom. And I've already looked over several maps, so our destination shouldn't be too far away. The only part that I'm not so sure about is the travel. It is through a jungle."

Will smiled. "Are you telling me that you're scared of traveling somewhere on dry land after all these years being at sea?"

"Well, it's just that I've only read about them in stories. And I've always heard that they are extremely dangerous."

"Camille, I doubt that there's going to be any kind of danger out there that you can't handle."

When she got back to her room, she paused at the top of the landing of the steps for a moment. There was clearly a light coming from beneath her door. She slipped her shoes off and tiptoed silently to the door. Peering through the doorknob, she could see Jack sitting in the room by the fire. He had his arm out in front of him, and was looking at the Mark.

She turned her key as quickly as she could, hoping that Jack would not hide anywhere while she did so. When she opened the door, she found him still sitting on the floor, staring into the fire.

She smiled at him. "Hello, Jack. You look so much better, and I'm quite relieved to see that."

"So now we're British again, eh Camille?" he grinned, getting to his feet.

She kissed him, and as she did he pressed something small into her hand. It was her ring. She put in on, sighing. "The small ring that's caused us so much trouble. Do you have a plan?"

"Always, love. With the map, you should have no trouble at all finding Aguadulce." He took a strand of her hair, even though it was tied up.

"Once we get there, do you know exactly where this place is?"

He shook his head. "No, but I have a feeling that something will come looking for us soon enough."

"Have you seen the rest?"

"Yes, they are still on the _Pearl_. I don't know why they never landed here, but they must've had a good reason. I need to get to my ship."

"So why is it so important that I go on to Aguadulce? I'm afraid that I don't understand."

Jack took her arm gently. "I want you to lift the curse from yourself. And we both know that you'll be more than safe with William."

Camille frowned. "Jack, what is going on between you? He wouldn't tell me a thing. There's obviously something that you are disagreeing about that has to do with me."

"Well, it's quite _obvious_ that he's worried about the impact I am having on you," Jack admitted, seeming a little upset.

"Your influence on me? As if I didn't have a say in the matter of becoming a pirate?" She rolled her eyes. "That does sound like something that William would say. But why is it such a tense subject now?"

"How should I know? I've only dragged you into a fatal encounter with this immortal soul-stealing pirate after he nearly killed us and we got away with this curse on our skin. Perhaps one of those was a trigger for him."

Camille laughed. "Do you think he's jealous, Jack?"

"Jealous? Of us? Doubtful."

"Think about it. Elizabeth died, remember? He's got to bear seeing her face every time he looks at Cadence. Not to mention that he almost did sleep with me."

Jack rolled his eyes. "What does that possibly have to do with jealousy?"

"He does harbor some extremely tender feelings for me."

"He does not."

She laughed again. "All right, I'll be serious. But I still don't understand why he is being so protective of me."

"Well, I suppose he dreads the thought of anything happening to you, such as I do. Only I know that keeping you chained down is the worst thing to do to a woman like you."

She smiled. "Good. I'm glad you've learned that lesson already. But I still think that I should go with you to the _Pearl_. What if something has happened?"

"Then at least I'll have you to get me out of it."

She nodded. "All right, Jack." She kissed him before he slipped back out the window. She watched him blend in with the people below as she shut the window. Sensing a presence on the other side of the door, she crept next to it and could see the shadow of someone standing behind it. Her heart jumped into her throat. Had somebody heard about the ring? How long had they been standing there? She took out her pistol, taking a deep, but silent breath, and yanked the door open.

The presence was gone. There was no one at either end of the hallway as Camille looked to the left and then to the right. "Hmm," she said to herself, tiptoeing outside and shutting the door loudly. But still no one appeared. She thought for sure that trick would have worked and the spy would have accidentally revealed himself.

She went back into her room, feeling uneasy. Perhaps the person had only been passing by. Either way, she should have been more careful about what she said in a place like this where the wrong ears could hear her.


	40. Stupid Girl

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a song by Garbage, one of my favorite bands.

Chapter 40: Stupid Girl

She was just putting out the fire when Will entered the room, and she jumped with fright as he did so. He looked at her before locking the door. (They had to share the room to pose as a married couple.) "Is everything all right, Camille?" he asked.

"Yes fine, just…fine," she said, calming down. "I've just spoken with Jack."

Will narrowed his eyes. "When were you with Jack?" he nearly demanded.

"Awhile ago. He said we should head for Aguadulce without him, he's got to locate _The Pearl_ which never docked here," she replied, ignoring his tone. "He's quite confident in me being able to follow the map, but I have my doubts."

"Not to worry," Will said, although he still sounded a bit upset. "It just so happens that our luggage boy, his names is James, has offered to be our guide to Aguadulce. He says that he is very familiar with the area."

"Well isn't that extremely lucky for us?" Camille mused. "I only hope that the others can find their way just as easily."

"I'm quite sure they will, especially with Norrington."  
"And with Jack," she added.

Will sighed, taking off his overcoat. "Why do you insist on provoking me?"

"Because I'm quite curious as to why you feel that you must protect me around Jack."

"My God Camille, he sleeps with other women!" Will said, raising his voice but maintaining some control.

"And I've slept with other men, what business is that of yours?"

"Because you're in love with him! I can see it in your eyes when you look at him, since as long as I've known you. And he's a good man, I can't deny that. But not when it comes to women. You are my closest friend, Camille. You don't deserve a man like that, a man who puts your life in danger and ranks you among his treasures; among his ship!"

"And what kind of a man do I deserve, dear William? A man like you? If you've got something to say, why don't you just say it instead of being so bitter against everyone?"

He shook his head violently. "No," he said. "No, I made a promise. Not now; not after Elizabeth."

"I know that it still might hurt to hear this, but Elizabeth is dead. And she is not coming back anytime soon. Repressing any feelings of passion that you have for any other woman is not healthy, William. You can't just pine away over one person for the rest of your life. You've got to enjoy things, enjoy love, while it lasts. And you have got to love Cadence."  
"I do, Camille. I do love Cadence, just as much as I loved Elizabeth. And I will love her until the day that she dies, just as I did with my wife. But until that day comes, I will continue to miss Elizabeth. She meant absolutely everything to me."

Camille stayed silent after this. She couldn't comprehend how a person could care that deeply for another. Perhaps she wasn't in love with Jack, perhaps she had been going about it all wrong. "I don't understand you, Will," she said softly.

"Nor I you," he said calmly. "But that is how I feel, and I don't think that it's ever going to change."

"Well," Camille started, but she really couldn't think of anything to say to that. She was completely transfixed on Will's feelings for Elizabeth. How could someone that in love lose his wife? He certainly hadn't done anything to deserve it. How unfair! It made her heart wrench with agony, to not be able to imagine what he had gone through.

"Camille-"

She put her hand up. "No, don't say anything else. I'm going to bed. Goodnight, William." She wasn't upset, but she was puzzled. Will was such a symbol of innocence to her that she felt guilty for her entire relationship with Jack: arguing, sleeping with other men, and putting others in danger for their own thrillseeking. She fell asleep with a very heavy heart that evening.


	41. To the Pirates' Cave!

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a track off the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack.

Chapter 41: To the Pirate's Cave!

The next day James secured a carriage for both of them and loaded their luggage onto it as they prepared to set out for Aguadulce. It would be three days' journey through the jungle, and Camille was already flustered about not being able to wear trousers for their trip.

"Camille, for the time being, you've got to at least act like you're somewhat of a proper lady," Will explained to her calmly as she stomped around.

"It simply is not fair!" she cried. "Why do men get all the freedom of movement? Why don't you have to be confined by various corsets and underthings, and…oh, to be a man," she sighed, calming down.

"Don't worry, you won't have to keep it up much longer. Just until we find what we are looking for."

"Which could be absolutely anything."

"It's now or never," Will said, holding the door open for her as they left the inn with the last of their luggage.

"Very true," she agreed.

It was a fairly uneventful and hot carriage ride the first day. James was a very good coachman for being as young as he was. Come nightfall, they found themselves in a very small village where they were to spend the night. Camille was exhausted. She'd never accustomed to the intense heat of the Caribbean, and here it was all the more humid. As James took the luggage from the coach, she slipped off her shoes and stood barefoot for a moment.

"I need a drink, Will. A very strong one. This heat is unbearable."

"All right, but I want you to remember that I am your husband as of now. So that means no fighting or sleeping with other men."

She nodded. "Fair enough," she said before putting her shoe back on.

When they walked into the small tavern the music was so loud that nobody bothered to turn and look at them. This was quite a relief to Camille, she was in a bad enough mood already without getting awkward glances from men. She and Will seated themselves at the bar and ordered their drinks as they looked around.

"I don't like that boy, James," Camille said, before taking a sip of her brandy. "I don't trust him."

"Who exactly do you trust?" Will asked.

"I trust you, and everybody else who has set foot past the threshold in my-your house in the past five years," she said. "And I think that he is a she."

"What, do you mean James?"

"Yes. He's either a young man with breasts or an adolescent girl. And I think it was she who overheard Jack and me speaking last night. I could see her shadow beneath the crack of the door to my room."

"Well, you shouldn't have been speaking to Jack in the first place."

"Yes, I know it was risky," she admitted. Despite her horrible mood, she refused to start an argument with Will tonight.

"Oh, bloody hell," Will cursed under his breath.

"What is it, my dear husband?" Camille asked, glancing behind them but not directly looking.

"Just follow my lead."

"Oh no Will, don't say that. That means that you don't want me to go doing anything foolish. And you know that I always do."

"Just this once, listen to me."

She looked at him curiously. She had never, ever liked taking orders from a man. But he had come all this way to protect her, and he missed his daughter terribly. Camille hadn't asked for any of this, but in the end Will had ended up somewhat saving her from Long John's wrath. So she decided that she would listen to him this time.

A man was at her side now; she could feel him looming over her. "That's a very lovely ring you've got on there, Miss." It was an older man, with an eyepatch. He smelled like rum, and frowned down at her as she casually looked up at him.

"Why thank you. It's my wedding ring. My husband knows that emerald is my favorite stone," she said softly. She noticed that he was surrounded by a group of men that looked just as angry as he did.

"I'm very curious to know how you came about such a…mysterious object such as that," the man said as she felt the barrel of a pistol in her side.

"Well," she said, without glancing over at Will. It was obvious he was in the same situation. "Would you believe that I stole it?"

The man chuckled. "Now that I would. On your feet, both of you. We don't want to cause a scene now. The captain will be havin' that ring of yours, either way."

Camille recognized this little figure of speech. This was one of Long John's men. She instinctively curled her hand into a fist, wanting to protect her ring.

"Give him the ring," Will said in a low voice.

"What?" she asked, her tone rising defiantly.

"Give him the ring," he said slowly, looking at her.

"I think ye should listen to the lad," the man said. "He may yet live a bit longer than you, Miss Quartermaine."

Camille grinded her teeth together. _You had better know what you're doing, Will_, she thought. She took off the ring and placed it in the man's hand, still gripping it for a second. The man laughed, holding it up for the others to see once he had it.

"It was very nice doin' business with ye both," he said. "Now my orders are to kill ye both."

"You mean that Captain Silver doesn't want to dispose of us himself?" Will asked.

The man rolled his eyes. "Don't try and stall me, boy."

Will punched the old man in the nose, immediately disarming him. Camille took this as her cue to steal his pistol and dive behind the bar. Cries broke out, and the crowd in the tavern began shouting and running every which way.

Among the confusion, Camille and Will took advantage of all the chaos and were able to slip out. There was a group of more men waiting just by the door, so they took a detour and ran upstairs. James was on his way down, and looked at them. "What's going on?" he asked, trying to see downstairs.

"This way!" Camille said, turning him around. "We need to get out of here, now!"

Will kicked open a door to one of the rooms, and they barricaded it with the bed. He blew out the candles, and the three of them stood in complete darkness. He stood by the window. "They're searching the coach. Do you think they'll find it?" It, meaning the crutch.

"I don't know. I hid it so it's impossible to find without taking the thing apart," but as she finished her sentence one of the men began unscrewing one of the wheels. "But they have considered that possibility, I suppose."

"What's that smell?" James asked.

"Gunpowder," Will answered. "I suppose they think they are going to burn us alive in here," he said, moving the bed and opening the door again. There was fire everywhere in the hallway, and he could see the trail of gunpowder. "They must've been planning on burning this inn anyhow."

"Well, we've got to stop them from tearing that coach apart before we have a whole new set of problems," Camille said, wrapping her hand up in bedsheets.

"I think that the building being on fire is a big enough problem."

"Will, get in here! We'll just escape through the windows."

James and Will looked at her. James shook his head. "But-"

"Cover your eyes," Camille commanded just before punching through the glass panes. She leapt through the broken window, catching her dress on nails and nearly tripping as she tried to climb down from the second story. She landed, falling over onto her face. "Damn these shoes," she muttered as she pulled them off again, throwing them at the men who were taking the coach apart. There were still people running around and screaming now that the inn was on fire, and she got back on her feet and ran knowing better than to stand in front of a building filled with gunpowder.

Will was fighting off the men, and James was still climbing down from the building. Camille made sure that everyone was out of the way before she began shooting.

"Camille, take cover!" Will called.

"What?" she asked before he pulled her aside and behind another building. The inn exploded, and several piece of furniture came ricocheting close to them. Will pressed the ring back into Camille's hand, and she slipped it back on.

"You got my ring back! Thank you!" she exclaimed. "I'm quite impressed by that."

Will smiled. "I thought I would try one of your tactics. I knew you'd like it."

"I did, very much," she said, making her way back to the coach, which was in pieces. She stopped short when she saw James standing there, grinning. "Oh, no."

James was holding the crutch, which was in a burlap sack. "I know what this is," he said. "And I'll give it back under one condition," he said, looking behind him as they heard more voices coming.

"And what's that?" Will asked.

"Take me to Jack Sparrow."

Camille eyed the girl suspiciously. "And what makes you think that we have any association with this Jack Sparrow?"

"Don't play games with me, Red Rogue Sullivan, I knew you the moment I saw you. You're his Irish mistress, everybody knows that."

Camille put her hands on her hips. "Well as much as I hate hearing it phrased that way, it is the truth. You'll find Jack in Aguadulce, where you are going lead us."

"I don't believe you."

"I never said you had to, love. But at least this means that I can change into something a bit more comfortable now, eh?"

Will just looked at James. "You lied to us."

"Of course she lied to us, she's a woman. It's what we do, dear William," Camille said as she dug around in the remnants of the coach, looking for her other dress.

"How did you know I was a girl?" James demanded.

"Because I know everything," Camille replied, straightening up. "Now, shall we?"

"I'm not leading you anywhere until you tell me how you knew that."

"Well, I'm not leading you to Jack Sparrow until you adjust your attitude a bit. Now are you going to cooperate with us or not, _James_?"

She sighed. "My name's Wynona."

"Lovely. Now let's go, Wynona."

Wynona didn't move. "Just like that? You're just going to trust me to lead you to Aguadulce?"

More voices were approaching fast. "There are two ways you will find Sparrow, and that's with us or with them," Camille said, nodding towards the figures of men who were beginning to emerge around the wreckage of the inn. "Now make your choice."

She and Will turned and headed for the jungle. Wynona hesitated for only a moment, and followed the two of them in.


	42. Diddling

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. The movie is almost out! Chapter title is a short story by Edgar Allen Poe.

**Chapter 42: Diddling**

It had been longer than three days, and they were completely lost. There was no sign of any village for miles through the thick jungle. Throughout their journey, Wynona had barely spoken to the two of them. Camille was as bright and optimistic as always, even though she dreaded finding Aguadulce even more than she did the curse that was upon her. And besides that, she was growing nervous about _The Pearl_ and why it hadn't docked at Barranquilla in the first place. The more she went over this detail in her mind, the more it began to bother her.

Camille sat down with her back against a tree, exhausted. There was no doubt in her mind that Wynona had purposely led them into the middle of the jungle. But it was more preferable than being threatened by those men, whoever they were. Wynona also kept the crutch with her, even though it seemed to be like quite a burden for her to carry.

Will rinsed his face in a small pool, relieved for the small break. He sat down hard, lying down on his back and looking up at the canopy. "We're lost, aren't we?"

"I suppose so," Camille replied dully. "I don't think I'd mind it so much if it were for my impending doom. I wish that I could have some idea about what we are to find there."

Will put his hands beneath his head, making himself more comfortable. "I don't know what we'll find, or even who. It could be anything. I hope that whatever it is, it's mortal this time."

Camille nodded. She was expecting him to say more, but she could see by the rise and fall of his chest that he'd fallen asleep shortly after. She continued to rest against that tree, wondering just where they were and how they were possibly going to find out where Jack, the _Black Pearl_, or Aguadulce was. She sighed, shutting her eyes and tilting her head over her face.

She could sense someone behind her. "Wynona, if you're going to kill me, than just do it," she urged.

"I wasn't going to kill you," Wynona said, making her presence known now. "I was getting some food."

"I can see that. That's why you've got that large knife, is it? Skinning very small animals, eh? You're a terrible liar."

"I'm better than you are."

"Most everyone is. But I can do it when it counts."

Wynona sat down in the clearing, dropping the sack next to her. "Well, I did lie about knowing my way to Aguadulce. I've never even heard of it."

"Oh, really?" Camille said, looking around her. "Clever girl. I should never have fallen for it. I knew there was something odd about you from the very beginning."

"Don't mock me," Wynona snapped.

"Oh, I'm not. Disguising yourself as a man is probably one of the smartest things that a woman can do these days."

"I wasn't planning on being clever," Wynona said, getting to her feet. "I just think that corsets are uncomfortable."

Camille laughed loudly. She was starting to like this young girl more and more by the second. And she was beginning to notice some very outstanding characteristics about her. Dark hair, dark eyes…the eyes were irrefutable evidence.

After her laughter rang out through the jungle, Camille noticed that it was particularly quiet. This brought her to her feet. She narrowed her eyes, trying to concentrate on anything that looked like it didn't belong. The girl didn't seem at all concerned in the least, as she continued to walk around the cluster of trees where they were.

"William, wake up," Camille commanded, making her way over to her friend. He didn't stir. "Will!" She bent over, noticing a small red object sticking out of his arm. She pulled it out, examining it. It was some sort of dart.

She cried out in alarm as she felt something sharp dig itself into her skin. She turned her head quickly and managed to find the same dart in her side. All of a sudden she began growing woozy, and the last thing she remembered was trying to pull the dart out of her skin.


	43. A Woman Waits for Me

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is a passage by Walt Whitman.

**Chapter 43: A Woman Waits for Me**

She woke up underneath a tent. She could hear Will's voice right next to her, but it took her a few minutes to understand where they were. And when she tried to move, she noticed that she had been bound by ropes.

"Camille, are you all right? I believe those darts had some type of mild toxin in them. I can't remember a thing, I was out cold."

"As was I," she said, still looking around. "Where are we, do you know?"

"I think that we are in Aguadulce."

"What? Already? How long have we been out?"

"I don't know. The people here do not speak English, but Spanish, which I know very little of. The only word that I have been able to understand is 'Aguadulce', among a few others."

"Wynona did this. That clever little wench. Aye, she's a manipulative one, she is." She gasped. "My God, she has the crutch! We've got to get it back from her, Will!"

Will acknowledged her determination as the tent flap opened and Wynona came in, holding the burlap sack. "Well good morning," she said brightly. "What, are you not happy to see me?" she asked, reading their faces.

"You must give us that crutch, you've no idea what it is," Will warned her.

Wynona laughed. "I'm not stupid, Master Turner. I know that this is the Devil's Dowry, which somehow leads to the treasure that Captain Sparrow is after."

"Yes, yes, this has all been a plan to bait Captain Sparrow into coming here. But what about commandeering his ship, did you do that as well?" Camille asked with mild interest.

"No, that wasn't my idea. But it does work out to my advantage quite well," Wynona said, opening the sack and dumping the crutch on the ground. Camille and Will both cried out, protesting together as Wynona tapped it with her barefoot. When that produced no effect, she reached down and grabbed it.

They both stared at her, Camille more than Will, when nothing happened. Wynona simply held the crutch in her hand. "What? Is that it?" she asked. "It doesn't even have a mark on it. What kind of fool do you take me for!" she demanded angrily, throwing the crutch down on the ground.

"It's a pity you found out so soon. I was hoping to lead you on just a bit longer," Camille said.

Wynona huffed. "You'll lead me to Jack Sparrow indeed," she sulked. "Never trust a pirate."

"Well, at least you know that much." Camille was quickly loosening her ropes, and leapt up. Wynona cried out in surprise and blocked herself with the crutch, but she and Camille continued to wrestle a bit. Finally, Camille was able to get the rope around Wynona and tie _her_ up and she untied Will.

"Now, will you please listen to me and stop fooling around, Wynona?" Camille asked as Will made sure to carefully wrap the crutch up again. "This is a matter of great importance. I would expect the daughter of the captain to understand that."

"What?" Will and Wynona cried at the same time. "How did you-" Wynona started.

"Well, you look just like him," she insisted warmly. "Plus, you've got that same knack for getting into trouble way over your head." She walked over to where Wynona sat. "Now, if I untie you you must cooperate with Will and me. I will take you to Captain Sparrow, I wasn't lying about that."

Wynona didn't have time to agree, because just then a cold gust of wind nearly blew the tent over. Camille cringed as her mark began burning on her skin.

"Camille, your mark!" Will pointed out. "I can see it through your shirt!"

She turned over her hand and looked at the map, which Wynona was just now noticing. The dot was gone.

"We're either in the right place, or Gretchen knows where we are," Camille explained, untying Wynona. "Either way, I think that it's best we get out of here."

Will nodded. "Follow me," he said, but as he turned he came face to face with a hideous being that looked like it had lived beneath a swamp its whole life. It made an angry hissing noise, and relying solely on his instincts was he able to avoid it long enough to locate his sword before slashing it.

"What is going on?" Wynona asked.

"I'm not exactly sure, but I'll bet that it has something to do with this," Camille said, indicating the sack. "I think that we are in the right place."

"Oh, thank God," Will said sarcastically, peeking outside of the tent. "There are about twenty more of those things outside wandering around. And they all have the symbol of the Devil's Dowry on them. I don't see any choice except to fight them, or run through them."

"Then let's fight," Camille said, searching the tent and finding her cutlass. "Wynona darling, have you ever fought?"

"Of course I have," she boasted. "Just not with immortal sea creatures," she added with less confidence.

"There is a first time for everything," Will said, opening the tent flap.

It turned out that the sea creatures were fairly difficult to fight. They didn't die easily, and the three of them ended up having to run away from them instead of being able to defeat any more than two of them. They were still in the middle of that jungle, and it was dark out now. They ran with even more difficulty, since there were insects and mudholes and branches or vines obstructing their paths. It felt like hours that they were running through the trees.

When Camille finally poked her head out in the fresh air, she nearly screamed with joy. "_The Pearl_! It's _The Pearl_ just below us! Look!" she yelled.

Will and Wynona were just behind her, and they all made their way out. The problem was, they were on a very high bunch of cliffs that were _overlooking_ the ship, and nowhere in approximation to simply being able to board _The Black Pearl._


	44. The Kraken

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is a poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. Language warning, as well. Just so I don't get sued.

**Chapter 44: The Kraken**

But the three of them wasted no time. Camille's arm was burning, Will was anxious to return home, and Wynona was even more anxious to meet her father. So the three of them ran with the energy that they didn't think they possessed any longer. They were just at the edge of the cliffs when the creatures began to emerge from the jungle.

"Can you swim, Wynona?" Camille asked.

Wynona nodded, than screamed as she was shoved off the edge of the cliff. Camille and Will jumped off just behind her, and resurfaced just in time to see the creatures doing the same thing. They weren't very close to the ship, and Camille found herself nearly being dragged under the water by a few of them. She was saved by James, who had been shooting at the water with a few pistols.

She rolled over the banister and lay on the deck, soaking wet again and catching her breath. She could hear the most familiar voice of them all approaching her.

"A fine entrance, love. And most pertinent to the situation as well. I applaud you," Jack said as he reached out his arm to help her up. She took it, relieved that he was safe. His little speech at the inn had worried her. He glanced at Wynona, who was looking at him. "One more question, Camille: Why do insist upon bringing more children aboard this ship?"

"I think that you may take a particular liking to this one, Captain," Camille said, winking at his daughter.

"Unlikely. Why are dressed as a boy?" he asked Wynona.

"Because of my dislike of corsets, sir," she answered meekly.

Jack sighed, letting go of Camille. "Christ almighty, she's another one," he said as he made his way to the helm.

Camille laughed, and it was several minutes before anything else worth mentioning happened. "Gretchen, let me see your ring."

Ana Maria produced Gretchen's ring, and she put it on her hand. Both of the women looked at their palms, and saw nothing. "No spot on yours?" Gretchen asked.

"No, I assumed it was on yours. Perhaps this is the spot. Captain, I think we've arrived!" Camille called.

As a reply, the ship stopped abruptly. The stop was so abrupt, that most of the crew lost their balance. Camille recovered quickly, and so did Will. They weren't aware that ships could stop like that. "Uh…Jack?" Will called out.

"I'm a bit busy, dear William," Jack called. He was just as confused as everyone else as to the _Pearl_'s odd behavior, and was steering carefully now. For another moment, everything seemed normal until the ship began leaning.

At first, Camille thought they were sinking. She began climbing towards the bow, when Gabriel pointed to a large mass at the stern of the ship. It was what looked like a huge squid that had the _Pearl_ in its grip. Gretchen began screaming, and she and Priscilla were hanging on for dear life as the ship became nearly vertical.

Camille was trying to hold onto one of the masts, and caught Wynona as she went sliding by. All that that two of them could do was hang there and try to climb up as best they could. Ana Maria and Will were in an easier spot, since they had made it to the cabin and were standing on it, shooting at the terrible creature. Camille couldn't see Jack, Gabriel, or James from where she hung, but she cried out in terror as she felt the burlap sack around her waist getting lighter.

"The crutch!" she cried just before it slid out. It skidded down the deck, and would've fallen directly into the creature's mouth if it hadn't been pressed against the deck by one of the hideous tentacles.

"Camille!" Wynona cried out. She was able to balance herself horizontally on the mast. "James is going to fall, and the only thing he has to grab onto is that!" she yelled over all of the commotion.

Camille tried to look, but she had to strain from where she was. As she did, her grip on the mast became loose and she began falling towards the creature's open mouth. She screamed, and so did Wynona before she felt a hand grab hers. Jack pulled her to safety.

"Thank you, Jack," she said as he put his arm tightly around her waist. "But I think that things are going to get much worse." Jack looked up, and sure enough, James was beginning to slide along the vertical deck of the ship. He was reaching out to grab anything that he could, and finally his hand rested on the crutch, which was being held by the squid.

"Oh, fucking hell," Jack cursed as he realized what was going on. "You were supposed to burn that thing," he said in an amazingly calm voice to Camille.

"Well I was trying, but _somebody_," she signaled above her, "was constantly evading me."

"You gave her the crutch?"

"She stole it, Jack," Camille said plainly.

"You think that I am going to believe that a young girl outsmarted you?"

"She's very good at it."

They both focused their attention back on James. Camille prayed that it wouldn't work, just like with Wynona, but even from where they stood she could see some physical changes starting to take place. "Oh, fucking hell," she repeated, gripping onto Jack.

And so that's how Long John Silver returned to this world. With a wave of his hand, the creature slid back into the sea and the Pearl was upright, floating in the water that was as calm as if it had never been disturbed.

Long John stood there, looking not a day older than when Jack had splattered his brains all over the caves of The Rune. He grinned his friendly yet threatening grin, with his hands on his hips and twirling the crutch back and forth between his fingers.

"James!" Camille shrieked, shocked at how fast the change had come over him.


	45. A Lighthouse's Tale

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is my favorite song by Nickel Creek. It's lyrics are really beautiful.

**Chapter 45: A Lighthouse's Tale**

Long John turned slowly, and smiled. "Oh he can't hear ye, love. I'm afraid he's just died, he has."

"You monster!"

John laughed his echoing laugh. "Monster?" he repeated. "Monster? Well, I've got just as many legs as you do now, there be no need to be callin' me a monster!" he guffawed.

"Oh, God," Camille said quietly. She instinctively curled her hand up into a ball to protect her ring.

"Long John, I have every intention of killing you _again_," Jack said in the darkest voice that Camille had ever heard him use.

"Glad to hear it, mate, because I have the same goal," Long John said fiercely, twirling the crutch in his hands. "But first, we shall do away with the ones that don't matter. Lucifer!" he called.

It was obviously the name of the giant squid, because just then everybody on the ship except Camille, Jack, Will and Gretchen was taken by a tentacle and held above the water. Jack grabbed Camille's hand and slipped the ring off.

Before she knew it, a giant, slimy tentacle was wrapping around her. She nearly gagged at how disgusting it was, and tried to scream. The sticky undersides were attached to her mouth though, and she was too disgusted to move. When her feet were lifted from the deck of the ship, she began to struggle a little bit as she got closer and closer to the surface of the water. Once she went under, she emitted some muffled screams and struggled even more to free herself. All of her efforts proved useless, because she soon found herself in a dark cave, still completely submerged underwater.

She sputtered a bit as the giant tentacles released her. Regaining her focus, she could see that they were still in the cave, in a part above the water. She could see nothing except damp rocks around. The only thing that gave her any clue to where they were was the intense burning on her arm that was almost becoming tolerable now.

"Well now," John chuckled as she was able to come into focus, "Before I kill you, which I will quite enjoy doing, I think that I'd like to bring something to your attention."

She moaned and sat up, still feeling a bit dizzy from everything. "Where are the rest?" she demanded, getting up quickly.

"They'll be kept alive for now."

"What do you want with me, Silver?"

"Oh, nothing really. Just a moment or two alone with you. You see love, I thought it best to give you one last chance to save yourself. You are Miss Quartermaine, as I see it, a beautiful and intelligent woman. But I'm afraid that ye've been most naïve about one thing."

"And what's that, Captain Silver?" she asked boredly.

"Well I'm supposin' that ye already know about the incident at the inn…" he said slowly, trailing off.

"Yes I do, and it is absolutely none of your business. Also, it has absolutely nothing to do with present circumstances. Now make your point," she said, looking around for something that she could use to defend herself with.

"My point, _darling_, is that Jack-"

"-was possessed by you!" she said, becoming irritated. What was John trying to get at talking about their personal matters? He was obviously trying to trigger some sort of emotion in Camille, and she wasn't sure which one it was yet. Anger? Jealousy?

Long John threw his head back and laughed as was his custom. "Oh no, my dear. Captain Sparrow was very much himself…all three times."

Camille's eyes widened. "I don't believe you! You simply want me angry at Jack so you can have me to yourself for whatever sick pleasures you have in mind. It is not going to work on me, Long John Silver," she refuted as the giant creature surfaced near them. It threw both Jack and Will on the hard rocks.

"As you like it," John said, crossing his arms over his chest. "But you know the man as well as I do."

Jack was getting up, trying to steady himself after being heaved onto solid rock. He looked from Long John to Camille. Will didn't stir at all. "You all right, Camille?"

She nodded. She was considering Long John's words, and remembering all of the fighting that had gone on between them over the subject. She trusted Jack though, and didn't let herself get too worked up over Long John's words.

"Ah, Jack. We were just talkin' about you, mate," John said heartily. "About what a decent, honest man you are."

"You bloody bastard, I'm no such man. And neither are you," Jack replied. "We've both done our shares of betrayals and murders, but you've gone off the deep end of it. You are mad with not only greed, but hatred and lies have consumed you."

"Don't get all 'holier than thou' with me, Jack. You're no different and you know it. Or perhaps Miss Quartermaine can refresh your memory that's faded somewhat over the years."

"I've made my peace with that, Long John. I betrayed her once, and have vowed never to do it again."

"Ah!" Long John let out a small chuckle. "Have ye now? That's fascinating Captain, it really is. Do go on," he urged.

"Jack, he's stalling us. Kill him," Camille said. The rest were in danger somewhere, and she had to find them and break this stupid, painful curse. Her arm was throbbing. And then the realization hit her. The Mark. It had only burned when she'd been near that crutch, or Silver. She now thought back to all of the instances where her Mark had burned intensely.

"My God, Jack. You lied to me!" she said, truly surprised. At the inn, she had never felt anything on her arm except for the evening that she discovered it was the crutch and kicked it out of Jack's grip. The night that he threatened Gretchen, and the morning after he slept with the whore her arm had been perfectly fine.

Long John grinned. "What an intelligent woman," he mused.

Camille looked at Jack. "How could I have been so stupid? I don't believe it, how could you?"

"I'm a pirate, love. How many times must I tell you that for you to fully understand? I always lie." He said it wittily and apathetically enough, but the look on his face was upsetting. He knew he'd just ruined a wonderful thing.

"Oh, Jack," she sighed. "Silver was right," she nearly whined.


	46. The Pirate Queen

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is an extremely awesome story that I'm reading right now, written by, uhm…some guy.

Chapter 46: The Pirate Queen

"I'm just an honest man," Long John said, who was now at the edge of the cavern where Will lay, still unconscious. "And since we be talkin' of honesty and truth, I believe, Miss Quartermaine, that you have a promise to keep."

Camille's face went white. Before she could even think about reaching for Jack's pistol a tentacle was wrapped around her foot and she was facing the ground. "NO!" she screamed. "Shoot him! Shoot him!" she cried, struggling with absolutely no luck at all. The creature was about one hundred times stronger than she would ever be. But she continued to struggle.

Another tentacle wrapped around Jack's waist, and he shuddered with digust before dropping his pistol on the ground. They both reached for it, forgetting the heartbreak of the previous moment as they combined efforts to save their friend.

Long John bent over Will, observing him. "Yes," he said, stroking his beard. "Ah, he is a strong one. Much better than this measly body I've managed to get myself into."

"That is the body of James Norrington, you murderer!" Camille screamed.

"Now, now, Camille. As always I think I've had a bit more of you than I can handle. I can see why ye sleep with other women, mate," he said, winking at Jack.

"Now," he said, kneeling down beside Will, and lifting up his arm. He wrapped Will's loose fingers around the crutch, and Jack and Camille both watched in horror as the transformation took place more quickly than it had yet.

"Will!" Camille shrieked, knowing that she was completely useless. Tears streamed down her face. "Will, no!" she wept, kicking at the tentacle that released her in another second.

Long John straightened up, and cast the crutch aside. The transformation was complete, and the crutch was once more just a plain crutch. Camille sat on the ground, not knowing what to do anymore. Jack was standing, staring at his enemy. "How did this happen?" he murmured.

"It's all my fault," Camille sobbed. "I made a choice between you and him. And I made the wrong one," she said bitterly.

She knew that Jack would be hurt by that comment, but he only nodded. "Apparently you did," he said, still staring at Long John. He took a couple of steps toward the grinning pirate. "I know you can still hear me in there, mate. And I'm gonna do whatever it takes to get you out," he said to Will.

"Aw, how very touchin'," smirked Long John. "Except for the fact that he died the instant my black heart took over his body."

"That's impossible!" Camille said. "He's not dead, I refuse to believe you."

"Go right ahead," Long John said, making his way to the walls of the cavern. "Because we both know how well that's gone for ye in the past." He stepped up to the wall and put his hands on it, and then knocked on it while his ear was to it. "This'll be it," he said, producing Gretchen's ring. "I think I'll let you see the treasure, and then kill you."

"You're not planning on keeping us around as slaves to haul the booty back to the _Pearl_? Pity," Camille said.

Long John paused. "Well, now that you mention it…no," he turned back to the wall. "The other ring, please," he demanded, making the 'please' rather unnecessary.

"Give him my ring, Jack," Camille said without an ounce of fury in her voice. She was going to deal with him after Will. There was absolutely no time for anger now. She prided herself with having at least that much logic.

Jack looked at her, and he opened his mouth. But instead of saying anything else, he shut it again and handed the ring to her. After he did that, he picked up his pistol, even though all three of them knew he wasn't going to use it while Long John and Will were in the same body. That was Long John's main reason for choosing Will in the first place.

She took it and slipped it on her finger. "We'll need the other woman again."

"Now where have I seen this before?" Long John said. "Oh yes, when you killed me!" he yelled, spinning around and facing Jack. "I don't think so, love," he said, talking to Camille again. "Ye'll do it without the Thatcher woman."

Camille panicked. How was she possibly supposed to do this alone? She didn't even know what she was supposed to do. But there was one thing she did know; her Mark had stopped burning when she had put the ring on. She rolled up her sleeve, sighing with relief as Jack and John still had theirs.

"Please, take all the time in the world," Long John said sarcastically. "My arm has only been burning for days now," he cocked his pistol and pointed it at her.

"Women have to go through childbirth when not facing the monthly pains of menstruating, and you want sympathy from me because of a burn on your arm? You fucking pansy," she said, feeling the wall. She knew that he was going to hit her for that comment, and she was absolutely right. The last thing she felt was the butt of the gun on the back of her skull.

She woke up with a terrible headache. Her ring, of course, was gone, and the Mark had returned to her arm. She tried to lift herself up, and only then did she realize that there were hands gripping her. She yelped, trying to shake them off as she heard a familiar voice.

"Camille! Camille, it's only me! You have to help us!" It was Ana Maria. Camille was resting on a grate, and Ana Maria was below her reaching an arm up through. She was soaking wet, and Camille looked down to see that the room was slowly filling up with water.

"Where are the others?" she asked, immediately gripping the grate and trying to loosen it.

"My best guess is that they are all in rooms like this one, filling with water. What happened? Where's Will? And Jack? You've been out for a bit less than an hour with a nasty bruise on your head, girl."

"Yes," Camille said as she gingerly felt the back of her head where Long John had pelted her. She looked around. She was in a room made of rotten wood. "Where are we?"

"In an old ship!" Ana Maria called up. She had water up to her waist, and was wading around underneath the grate.

"Then this stuff has got to give way sooner or later," Camille said nervously. She could already hear some slight creaking. "All right, we'll have to do this together. We've got to find a weak spot in the wood."

"I've already looked, there's none," Ana protested.

"Either there is, or you're as good as dead," Camille said, getting to her feet. She began stomping around and not even a minute later one of the floorboards gave way. With a cry, Camille fell into the water right next to her friend.

"Well, that's a fine rescue," Ana said. "Let's wait and float to the top now, eh?"

"No time. It's Priscilla and Wynona that I'm most worried about. I don't know if they have the strength to stay above the water as long as we do. Especially Priscilla. Let me climb up onto your shoulders, I'm lighter than you are."

"Excuse me?" Ana Maria said, lifting an eyebrow. "And just what's that supposed to mean?"

"Ana, this is no time to get offended, give me a boost," Camille said.

Ana Maria growled, complying with her friend's request and in a minute they were both in Camille's room. It took them a while to break down the walls of the rotted out ship, but slowly they made it around to everyone, rescuing them from nearly drowning.


	47. A Modest Proposal

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a piece written by Jonathan Swift about eating babies.

Chapter 47: A Modest Proposal

By the time that everyone was able to get off the sinking ship safely, the cave was already opened. Camille ran as fast and as quietly as she possibly could to where Long John had last been seen. Now, it looked like there had been a narrow path between two of the walls. The group quietly entered, with Camille and Gretchen going first.

Camille's eyes grew wide when they finally reached the main part of the cavern. There was so much gold that it looked like even the rocks were naturally gold. That, of course, wasn't the case as they were simply covered with gold coins and crowns and rubies, etc. There was much more of it than any of them had ever seen.

Amidst all of this, in the center there stood what looked like an altar. It was decorated with jewels, but because it was silver it stood out from everything else. Long John stood there, and he looked more frustrated than usual as he held both of the rings. It seemed that he was trying to figure out how to activate something.

Just to the right of him sat Jack, constrained in a chair. Camille glanced back at Gretchen, who was being sure to be as careful as ever to remain hidden from sight. They were able to fit perfectly behind one of the numerous large piles of coins as the others found similar hiding places.

Camille peered just around the corner of her hiding place, and could see Long John holding the rings, trying every which way to fit them into the silver altar in the center of the cavern. _What an idiot_, Camille thought. _This is the second time we've gone through this, and he still doesn't realize that he can't do it without our blood._

She then focused her attention on Jack, who she could now see was physically suffering. His face was covered in sweat and he was having trouble breathing. She tried to look or the cause of his suffering, and discovered that there was also a constraint around his neck. He watched Long John, and his chuckle came out like a gasp. "You're never going to figure that out," he said, between shallow breaths.

"Shut up, or I'll kill you with a more painful method," Long John said, still focusing on the altar.

Camille sat there, trying to see exactly what the silver altar looked like. While she did, she noticed Jack glance at her and then quickly away.

"D'you really think that death frightens me now, mate?" he asked John.

Camille had to bite her lip. _Don't_, she told herself. _Don't fall for it again, Camille. He can't be trusted_. But she still felt a pang of sympathy for him.

"Argh!" Long John yelled, stomping his foot on the ground. "I can't get this bloody thing to work! But I fancy that Quartermaine woman will be along any minute just as well, she's so damned hard to murder," he said, wringing his hands together.

At this comment, Camille smiled to herself. Now just how would she manage to surprise him this time? He already knew most of her moves, or at least he had to by now. He was about twice as strong as her, and above all this time she had to put Will's safety ahead of her own escape, even her life if it came down to that. She took a deep breath and nodded over at Gretchen. Gretchen nodded back.

"Captain Silver," Gretchen said as she stood up, "Give us the rings, we'll do it."

"Ah," said Silver, turning around slowly. He wasn't surprised at all by their sudden appearance. "I was wonderin' when you would start cooperatin' with me. It's about time."

"One condition, Captain," Camille said.

Long John shook his head. "No. Ye should know by now there be no bargains 'tween the two of us."

"Release William."

Long John laughed. "Of course I won't! Camille darling, I thought ye'd be a bit more understanding of that."

"Then we're not using the rings."

"Ahem," Long John cleared his throat and nodded over in Jack's direction. "Then I'll kill him, love."

"You were going to kill him, anyway. Don't let me stop you," she said, praying that Ana Maria and Gabriel were in the right place. She snatched both of the rings from Long John and gave Gretchen hers.

They both stepped up to the atlar. It had two carvings in it, but they were in a language which couldn't be deciphered. Camille had to think quickly. She would return the rings, and Long John could have the treasure. The trinkets in this room meant very little to her after what she had gone through with Jack and Will. She needed to help Will, and Long John was going to die in the process. That much she knew.

"Are you ready, Gretchen?" she asked.

Gretchen took a breath, looking a bit nervous. "I'm not really. But I suppose that it must be done."

"Aye, that it must. Let's see what happens when we place them above these carvings."


	48. If We Must Die

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a poem written by Bertold Brecht.

Chapter 48: If We Must Die

They did that, but nothing happened. After a moment, they switched positions and tried it again, this time almost being knocked off their feet afterwards. A great rumbling began erupting from the cavern, and trinkets began falling as the entire place shifted, especially the central area that the altar was in. In all of this excitement, Jack fell backwards into the water while still suffocating in his chair. Camille ground her teeth together, holding onto the rising mountain of stone. From the corner of her eye she could see Ana Maria diving into the water after him.

Long John was, of course, able to easily balance himself on the rock as it rose from its previous position in the cavern. The ceiling was already very high to begin with, and just before Long John's head hit it all was again quiet. Camille and Gretchen exchanged glances. What sort of evil spirits had they called up from the depths of the seas this time?

An answer came when the altar began to glow brightly. Long John watched it, like it would give him the answers to the Devil's Dowry. Camille was keeping her eye on him, and was extremely irritated when Gretchen poked her.

"Camille, look," she said in a nearly inaudible voice. She gripped Camille's arm with that iron grip that the Thatchers were known for having. The two girls stared in wonder as a couple of statues came out of the water below them. They were both white, and they looked like they were of women. At the same time, the cavern seemed to become bigger than ever. Above them, another statue was slowly rising. It was a large black one, also of a woman. The features on her face could not be seen clearly, but she held a very large, red ruby in her arms. It looked like it would take at least five people to carry that ruby.

Long John, upon seeing this emerge, opened his eyes so wide that they nearly bulged right out of his head. "The Devil's Dowry!" he announced, laughing hysterically at the sight of it. The statue loomed some leagues above them, and only a very high, very narrow staircase led up to it.

"I think I have a very good idea of who those two statues might be," Gretchen whispered to Camille. "Run for that jewel."

"What? Gretchen, what do you mean?" Camille, for once was very confused and hadn't been able to draw a conclusion from any of this.

"Just do it. I have to get the rings down to those statues." When Gretchen finished saying this, the cavern stopped moving. The ruby shone brighter than ever, and at a second's notice The Mark came back. Not expecting this, Camille cried out in pain. She saw Long John still looking at the ruby, transfixed by it. So she began to run to the staircase.

This got the pirate's attention. He made a noise that Camille had never heard before, but she could tell that it was an angry one. She didn't look back, and started up the narrow staircase, almost losing her balance on the first few steps. The pain was sharp, and continued to increase as she got closer to the jewel. But she continued to ascend the stairs before she hit the ground and tumbled down a few. Long John had pushed her down and was now ahead of her.

She got back up, moving a little more slowly. That ruby had an almost eerie glow to it, so she was sure that Long John was meant to take it. Nothing but bad things had come out of mysterious treasures for her, so she simply followed Long John Silver up the steps.

She looked back, gasping at the height they were at. She could see two women that hadn't been in the cavern before. One of them clearly had red hair. Camille's arm throbbed so much that she felt like it would fall off. She could see now that Long John was face to face with the ruby, and the glow of it reflecting in his face revealed his truly terrifying side.

He reached out to touch the ruby, and Camille stood right behind him. Just before he touched it, he pulled away suddenly, spinning and looking at her. "It's mine, you can't have it!" he roared, hurling her over the edge.

Camille grabbed frantically for the ledge, and managed to grab at a point a little below where she had been pushed off. Her head spun as she smacked into the stone mountain's side.


	49. The World Is Too Much With Us

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a poem by William Wordsworth, it gives a tiny bit of foreshadowing.

Chapter 49: The World Is Too Much With Us

As Camille and Long John had been going towards the Devil's Dowry, Gretchen had been able to snatch the two rings and take them down to the white statues. She had realized at once that the statues were those of their mothers, Adrienne and Morgan. So the only thing she could figure out to do was to put the right ring on each woman.

Priscilla and Gabriel were now in the cavern, no longer hiding since Long John Silver was mostly occupied. Ana Maria had saved Jack from not only suffocating but drowning, and they were both now climbing out of the water. Wynona had been digging through the piles of treasure, impressed with all of this magnificence, but was now coming closer to the statues as she watched Camille and Long John race for the Dowry.

Gretchen took a deep breath, and placed the red ring on the statue that looked like her mother. Nothing happened immediately, so she did the same with the green ring and the statue of Morgan.

Slowly, the two statues came to life. First was Adrienne, who took a short moment to focus her attention on her first daughter. "Gretchen?" she asked disbelievingly.

Gretchen nodded. "Yes mother, it's me."

"My God, how beautiful you've gotten!" Adrienne exclaimed, embracing her at once. "And Gabriel! You've grown so much! Oh, my little Priscilla…" she went on upon seeing all three of her children as Morgan's hair got redder and redder.

Morgan blinked and looked around, much more cautious than Adrienne had been. When she began searching the cavern, her eyes locked on Captain Jack Sparrow and narrowed. "Adrienne!" she called, silencing everyone. Adrienne looked up. "It's Jack."

Adrienne drew her pistol, looking at Jack just as fiercely now as Morgan was. Jack was done recovering from choking, and held his hands above his head now. He hadn't known about the statues of Morgan and Adrienne, nor than they were the actual women imprisoned. So he had not been prepared to deal with them.

"Well, Jack Sparrow," Morgan said in a very dangerous tone. "It seems that your luck has finally run out. There is nothing that you can say to divert me from pulling this trigger."

Jack had never met Morgan personally. Long John Silver had dealt with the two pirate women, but it was obvious that Jack had been mentioned. Jack was amazed with how much Morgan reminded him of Camille, not only physically, but her attitude as well.

"I don't think I'm the one you have a bone to pick with, love," Jack said, pointing to the staircase where Long John was struggling with Camille.

Before Morgan could react, Adrienne shouted. "Morgan, you get Silver, I'll deal with this one," she said, her eyes and pistol still focused on Jack. Morgan nodded, heading for the staircase.


	50. The Power of Words

Dislclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a short story by none other than Edgar Allan Poe.

Chapter 50: The Power of Words

Camille was trying to pull herself up, but there was so much going on that she could barely focus on her task. She could see Jack running around, his sword drawn, fighting a woman with brown hair that she didn't recognize.

Just above her, she could tell that Long John had finally gotten his hands on the Devil's Dowry. He was laughing, and she knew quite well by now that his head was thrown back. Then she looked up. The cavern was all of a sudden filled with red light. She hoisted herself up a little bit so that she could see over the edge. The Dowry was glowing even more. Long John had his hand on it, laughing madly. "At last," he said, his chest heaving with the unnecessary hysterics of a crazed person. "Immortality!" As he pressed his hand to the Dowry, he began glowing as well.

"Camille!"

Camille looked down the staircase, where a familiar woman was calling her name. She then realized what Gretchen had been able to figure out a little while ago. "Yes, Mother!" she called.

"He's vulnerable!" Morgan yelled, still heading up the staircase. "You have to kill him now, while he is focusing on the Dowry!"

"Mother, I can't! It's a bit of a long story, but I can't kill him!"  
"Just do it, Camille! Trust me!"

"Never trust a pirate," Camille muttered, pulling her cutlass out of her clothes. The glowing was so bright, she could barely even see Long John there. It was like he was almost the same as the ruby. So she took her cutlass, and stuck it into the side of the ruby.

When she did this, the glowing stopped. Long John uttered an inhuman cry, and his outer appearance literally shattered. There was nothing left now.

"Will!" Camille cried, looking around. To her relief, the pain subsided from her arm. The Mark felt like it was gone for good. But that didn't solve the problem of Will.

Morgan was just making it to the top of the staircase. "Camille!" she exclaimed, embracing her daughter and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Camille, my child!"

"Mother!" Camille said, becoming choked up in her mother's arms. "I've missed you so much."

"Oh, Camille," Morgan said sweetly, pulling away. "Ah, you look just as lovely as I remember," she said, holding Camille's chin.

The cavern began shaking. The large staircase they had all climbed was beginning to look shakier and shakier by the minute. They both got their bearings for a moment, and began down the stairs as fast as they possibly could. None of the Thatchers were anywhere in sight, but Ana Maria, Jack, and Wynona were making their way through the mazes of treasure that were by now shifting tremendously in the cavern.

The stairs were quickly breaking, but the two of them managed to make their way to the bottom. Boulders and stalactites were falling everywhere, and the gold was becoming harder and harder to see. Camille did her best running through the collapsing place, while keeping Morgan close within her sight. At the same time, she was looking for any opening in the cavern that she'd missed.

Morgan pulled her. "Come on, Camille! We've got to get out of here, they'll be time to talk later!"

"Camille!"

Camille stopped. That was Will's voice, and it sounded like it was somewhere nearby. "William! Mother, I have to go back for him!"

"He's gone Camille, just accept it!" Ana Maria yelled, ahead of them.

"No!" she cried, falling back. Where could he possibly be? This place was falling apart, and you couldn't even tell that had been any treasure in there at one time. Then she saw a small opening towards the top. She would have to climb a bit to get in there.

She started towards it, and put her foot on the first rock to climb up. Then she felt a hand around her wrist. It was Jack holding her tightly. "What do you think you are doing? We've got to leave this place now."

"Let me go, Jack," she said, trying to shake him off. But he was too strong.

"Ana Maria's right, he fell behind. Silver murdered him, you're not going to find anything up there except your own fate!" he shouted over the falling rocks.

"Then leave without me!"

"No!"

"Jack Sparrow, let me go!" she said, finally prying free from his grip. She climbed up the side of the cavern so fast that he couldn't even catch her small feet. "William!" she cried. "Will, where are you?"

A voice came from inside. "Camille, run! It's too late for me, get to _The Pearl_!"

"Oh, like hell I will," she said, climbing in. It looked like another cavern, half the size of the one they'd just been in. There was Will, bent over, struggling to free himself from being caught between two boulders. He looked up at her.

"It's caught underneath, I can't loosen myself from it!" he told her.

She used all her strength to try and lift move one of the rocks, but she couldn't. She tried to help Will pull himself free, but that didn't work either. The place was collapsing, and she feared that the small opening to this cavern would be blocked soon. "I can't move it!"

"That's all right, go! If you stay here any longer you'll be crushed!" Will warned her.

"He's right. When are you going to learn not to be so damned stubborn?"

They both looked up. "Jack!" she exulted. He immediately stooped to help her, and in a minute or two they were all able to get Will free. There was no time to ask any questions, they had to move.

Camille had absolutely no idea where they were, so she followed the others. They finally came to a cove where _The Pearl_ was, still in one piece. But it wasn't over when they boarded it. The cove was completely dark, and nobody could tell where they were headed, or even if they were even moving at all.

Jack, of course, had the helm. Ana Maria and Gretchen hung off the sides, straining to listen for any noise that might be a clue to their position. Morgan stood at the stern of the boat, clinging onto her daughter. They were all afraid now, afraid that some part of Long John Silver was still there, keeping them imprisoned beneath the seas. And their fears, for the most part, were correct.


	51. Expressions of Sea Level

Dislclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a poem by A.R. Ammons.

Chapter 51: Expressions of Sea Level

"Captain, there's something beneath us!" Wynona yelled, looking over the edge. And glowing through the water was the same color of the Devil's Dowry, the same deep red that was spreading around them. Camille grabbed for her cutlass, knowing that this escape could only be performed with a struggle.

Her mother looked at her. "What is it?" she asked.

"Something is still following us. Look at your ring," Camille said. Morgan's green ring was glowing almost as brightly as the water that was just below them. Not only was it glowing, but The Mark was in it.

"Adrienne? What does your ring look like?" Morgan asked.

"It's got some sort of mark in it. I think that it may be the Devil's Dowry," said Adrienne, casually coming over to them. She extended her hand out to Camille. "It's a pleasure to meet ya, by the bye. I've only got one question regardin' the captain."

Camille sighed. "I don't even want to go into it right now. Let's just solve this first. If Jack gives you any trouble, I'll handle it." Adrienne seemed to be content with this answer, and turned her attention back to Morgan and their rings.

"Everybody, hold on!" Gabriel called. Before anyone could react to his warning, _The Pearl_ began spinning. As Camille tried to keep her stomach and her head from spinning too much, she could feel the ship suddenly sinking. _Not again_, she thought. But this time they seemed to be inside a whirlpool.

"Impossible," Ana Maria murmured. "A maelstrom!"

"A what?" Gretchen asked.

"A maelstrom? My God, he must still be in control of the seas," Morgan said. They were inside of a huge maelstrom, with bits and pieces of other ships around them. Jack was doing his best to keep control of the ship, but since it was surrounded on all sides by water, the effort was pretty useless. They could hear laughter around them, and it was unmistakable.

"Silver!" Jack bellowed, echoing through the tunnel of water. "Leave my ship alone, I'm warning you!"

But the laughter only ensued. And then Priscilla uttered a piercing cry. It looked like a decomposing arm had reached out of the blood-red waters of the maelstrom and grabbed her. Adrienne was quick to react with her pistol, but now there was the problem of a decomposing, moving arm on the deck of the ship.

More continued to surround them, not only arms, but attached to them were the remains of what used to be people. They all slowly pulled themselves out of wherever it was that their corpses had lay at rest in the sea.

The crew of _The Black Pearl_ was more than ready to handle these things. All of them put up a very good match against the creatures, but there were so many of them that surviving was beginning to look grim. And amidst all of the excitement, they were slowly starting to notice that their captain was no longer among them.

"Ana! What happened to Jack!" Will called out as he evaded two dead men.

"I don't know, I think that he got pulled overboard!" Ana Maria called back, racing to the stern of the ship. "He's still got his own score to settle with Silver, don't you forget!"

Wynona wasn't doing badly, and with the help of Priscilla the two young ladies were untouchable. Above all else, they had speed to their advantages. That, and being so small and agile. They could both slash at and ambush the creatures before the creatures could realize that they were being attacked in the first place. (Gabriel and Will were completely hardcore. That pretty much goes without saying, though.)

Camille was having difficulties, because most of the creatures were after her and Morgan. It had been a quarter of an hour now, and they were still coming strong. Camille was getting tired of fighting, and she was getting worried that this curse would never be broken at all.

She and Morgan were surrounded by dead men. Finally, their weapons were rendered useless. There were way too many of them around, and one of them grabbed Morgan by her long hair and yanked her head back, exposing her neck. "Mother!" Camille yelled, reaching to help her but being held back. Neither of them was able to break free from the stone cold grips they were being held in. A sword was being held to Morgan's throat, and she was shaking.

As the sword drew nearer, a pistol shot sounded and the corpse that had been holding Morgan reluctantly let go of her. The bodies remained standing where they were, but now there was a new addition to the creatures. Camille and Morgan stopped, slowly picking up their pistols and looking around. They both saw a very unrecognizable Long John Silver, climbing up over the side of the ship and looking very upset. He looked like he had spent years slowly rotting at the bottom of the sea, and it was quite obvious that among being wet he had previously been covered in blood.

Morgan held Camille's arm, a bit more gently this time. They were both terrified of the sight of that man. He had and expression of pure hatred on his face as he approached the two of them. "Well, well," he said as the creatures surrounded them, holding them still and removing their weapons from them. "The Sullivan women at last," he mused, rubbing his disgusting hands together. "Hello, Morgan."

Morgan said nothing, but spit in his face. At this, Long John cried out angrily. He grabbed her by the arm, and the creature that was holding Camille knocked her unconscious.


	52. Ballad of a Fallen Angel

Dislclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is from my absolute **favorite** cartoon, _Cowboy Bebop._

Chapter 52: Ballad of a Fallen Angel

While Camille lay there, Morgan was still in danger. Long John had blood all over him, so she could only assume that he'd killed Jack in the maelstrom. But there was so much more going on around her. The sea creatures were infiltrating the ship, and everyone was fighting for their lives. His grip on her was monstrously strong, and she began trying to twist away from him. Morgan looked into his eyes, and his malicious grin only grew wider.

"Long John, let her go! If you're going to kill someone, than I suggest you finish the job!" Jack yelled. He was just climbing over the side of the ship, and he looked badly injured. But he was still walking towards Silver and Morgan. Morgan was released, and she staggered back.

"Oh no," Long John said. "Not without that ring."

Morgan just held it tighter. "You'll have to kill me first."

"All right," Long John said, putting his sword right through her. She gasped, and fell to the deck as Long John took the ring from her, laughing. Jack continued to advance towards him as Adrienne shouted something.

Long John put the ring on his pinky finger, fitting it as far down as it would go. But the minute it touched him, what had been decomposing became real flesh. "What?" he cried, confused. He was becoming human! The somewhat handsome features of his human face were beginning to return to him, but he was horrified.

Jack did not wait for him to become entirely human, nor did he hesitate to shoot Long John Silver in the head for a second time. He did this and then pushed him overboard with only a yelp of realization from the other pirate. He was also quick to recover the Sullivans' ring.

He made his way over to Morgan, ignoring everything else going on around them. She was still alive, but barely. He knelt down beside her, spilling more blood on the deck of The Pearl. "Morgan, why did you do that?" he asked. She had obviously known that Long John was going to kill her, and that the ring would make him mortal and vulnerable.

She looked at him, her face white. "For Camille. Better that I die than you," she said with her last couple of breaths. She died in his arms.

Camille awoke to Ana Maria's voice. She and Adrienne were speaking softly to each other below deck. It was now nighttime, and Camille was laying on blankets.

"How's your head?" Ana Maria asked.

Camille groaned. "I don't know what they did to me," she said, feeling it. There was a very large lump on the back of it. "What happened? Are we still in that maelstrom?"

"No," Adrienne said. "It's all over. Jack killed Long John, and the creatures disappeared along with him. We are sailing back to the Fuego, and then to Celebros."

Camille sighed. "Well, that's good. Where is my mother?" she said, getting to her feet. "I would like to spend as much time with her as possible."

At this, both of the women looked down. They had been trying to decide how to break the news to Camille before she woke up, but they still weren't sure. Adrienne looked like she was about to cry, so Ana Maria took Camille's hands in hers.

"Camille, there's no easy way to say this. Morgan was killed by Long John while you were unconscious."

"What!?" cried Camille, pulling her hands away. She ran above deck, with Adrienne and Ana following close behind. She could see a figure wrapped in cloth lying there, and stopped. "My God," she said, needing both of them to keep her on her feet. "Mother," she sobbed.

They brought her over next to Morgan's body and let her kneel there, bent over her mother. "There was so much that I never got to say to her," she wept.

Adrienne nodded, bowing her head. "She was a good woman, as fine a shipmate as I ever did sail with."

Ana Maria put her hand on Camille's shoulder. "We've all said our goodbyes. We left the decision for burial up to you, Camille."

Camille nodded. "Her body belongs at sea." Adrienne nodded again. They cast off the body shortly, because Camille didn't wish to say anything else. Ana and Adrienne left her to herself after a bit.

She felt a slight touch upon her shoulder and turned around to see Will. "William!" she sobbed, hugging him. He returned the embrace with just as much enthusiasm.

"Will, I am so sor-"

Will put his hand up. "Silver fooled all of us, and I know that you had absolutely no intention of handing me over to him. It's behind us now."

Camille nodded. "Yes. Thank you, Will." She took his hand. "You will always be one of my dearest friends."

"I certainly hope so. I'm sorry about your mother. Are you all right?"

"No, of course not. I've just come back to the world with a lump on my head to find my mother dead for real. I don't know if it's even hit me yet. I don't know that when it does, I can handle it."

"Camille, it'll get easier. If you ever need anything, I am always here for you. Just let me know."

She sniffled. "Thank you Will, but I just want to be alone right now with my thoughts."

He nodded. "I understand. Try and get some rest," he said, hugging her again and leaving.

Jack watched the two of them from the helm, and even though he and Will were past their differences, he still couldn't help feeling that twinge of jealousy that he usually did when the two were together. Jack was feeling pretty weak himself, not yet fully recovered from his injuries. He'd been trying to occupy his mind with other thoughts to keep them off his final encounter with Silver.

"Mr. Turner!" he shouted, catching Will's ear. "Take the helm!"

Will took his place. "Aye, Captain. You know, you really should talk to her."

Jack only shook his head. "No, mate. I may not know much about women, but the one thing that I do know about that one is that when she is ready to be comforted, she'll go to the right person." He patted Will on the arm, heartbroken. "Take care of her for me."

Will turned around as Jack made it up to his cabin. "What is that supposed to mean?" But Jack didn't reply. He was much too troubled and exhausted from everything.


	53. The Most Anticipated

Dislclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 54: The Most Anticipated

She took a moment for it all to sink in. "Oh Jack, you truly are an amazing man," she said to no one. She could not believe what she'd just read. But what really caught her attention were the stains on the bottom of the letter. They looked like tear drops. She sighed. He really did love her. As if he'd been fooling anyone in the first place.

She heard the door opening, and quickly restored it to its position on the desk. Jack walked in, took the letter, and folded it up. He put it into his jacket, which was still hanging up. "Apologies, Miss Sullivan."

She nodded. "It's all right, Captain." She was extremely impressed with the words of the letter, which kept going through her mind. She could not believe that he felt that way about her. As she glanced out the window, she could see land. "Port Celebros," she realized, as Jack looked. He made a growling noise.

"Aye."

"I suppose there is a chance that we may never cross paths again, Captain Sparrow," she said, observing his response.

"It's hard to say. I doubt that the navy will ever stop wanting my head," Jack said, as calmly as ever.

"Well then I suppose that this is goodbye, then. After all, as we've come to realize many times before, the daughter of Dorian Quartermaine could never end up with the rogue pirate of the seven seas."

"Very true."

"Yet sad," she added, watching him for any sign of emotion. Perhaps he'd already come to the conclusion and dealt with it, according to the state of his cabin.

But he only nodded. "Best not to linger on long goodbyes," he said, unrolling a map and setting his compass down. "I've got my duties to attend to, I will see you and Mr. Turner off in a few hours' time."

She looked at him, puzzled. "Is that all, Captain?" He was containing himself. After all, she wasn't meant to read the letter until she was safely back in Port Celebros with Will. "You've nothing else to say to me?"

"What would you like me to say, Camille?" he asked impatiently. "It's become quite obvious that I am the source of all of your unhappiness. Now leave."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Why can't you just admit to yourself that you love me, Jack?" she asked quietly before leaving. As she looked out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jack crumple up the letter and throw it on the ground.

She waited on deck, quietly performing any necessary chores until the rest of the crew was roused. Port Celebros was coming more into view, and as it did she could not stop the feeling she had in the pit of her stomach as she watched it.

"Camille, good morning!" called Will as he approached her. "You're up quite early, I can see that you haven't slept a bit. Are you feeling all right?" he asked, touched her on the arm gently.

"Yes, I'm doing much better, actually," she said, not looking at him.

"Then why do you look like something is troubling you?"

She looked at him. "Will, I'm not returning with you and Ana Maria."

"You're staying on _The Pearl_ with Jack?"

She nodded. "I'm in love with him, Will."

Will understood completely. "Cadence is going to be most disappointed. So am I," he added.

"I know, but the further away Cadence is from me the better, at least until she becomes a bit older. I can't bare the thought of putting either one of you through any more danger."

Will nodded. "Promise that you'll write?"

"Yes. That goes for you as well." She hugged him, and he kissed her on the cheek. They were close enough to the port now that orders were being shouted out everywhere.

They pulled into the docks, and the gangplank was lowered. Will and Ana Maria said their goodbyes, and Will and Camille hugged one last time. "This won't be the last of me that you see," she told him.

Jack stood there, simply waving. "Farewell, mate. Until…well, _if_ we meet again." He looked at her, and this time she could see that his eyes were saddened. He wasn't even trying to hide the expression on his face. He pressed the letter into her hand, which she could se had been straightened back out. "Farewell, Miss Sullivan. You can live safely now without a fear of pirate curses."

She watched Will and Ana Maria descending, watched the crew waving and shouting farewell messages to them, and bit her lip. She stepped forward, away from the gangplank. "I can't leave, Jack. Not yet, anyhow."

"Why not?"

"Because I've read this," she said, holding up the letter.

He looked at her a moment, stunned. His eyes went wide, and then he shook his head. "No, no, you have chance to be with someone who will be by your side and not betray you. Will is a good man, better than I will ever be."

"Yes, but Will loves Elizabeth and only Elizabeth. He has no room in his heart for me to be more than a friend, Jack. And I feel the exact same way about him. It's you that I've fallen for, don't you see that?"

But still Jack shook his head. "No. They'll catch you. They're already after me, and I've no doubt that someday they will catch up to me. In Port Celebros you're safe."

"With the navy knowing that I already acted in piracy? I'll be jailed and hanged either way."

"I know. That's why," he said, rummaging around in his jacket. "Ah," he said, producing more letters. "I've got these."

She read them. "Royal letters of pardon? Jack, where did you-"

"Pirate," he reminded her. "Now go, before I am forced to push you over the side."

"You wouldn't."

"I most certainly would."

Here, Gibbs came up beside Jack and interrupted him. "For the love of God, Jack, can't ye see that she doesn't want to go back to Port Celebros?"

"Gibbs, did I ask for your opinion?" Jack said, turning on him.

"Captain, she's as good hand as any and we could certainly use a sailor like her. Plus, instead of gettin' me to take part in yer schemes, ye can use her."

Camille laughed. "Thank you, Mr. Gibbs."

He nodded. "My pleasure, darlin'."

Camille could see Jack thinking, stroking his split beard. But he kept shaking his head. "This is not a good idea," he said.

"Jack, I know that you don't love me, but I can't leave, this ship has become my home and the crew my friends."

He looked at her seriously. "When did I ever tell you that I didn't love you? I do, very much. That's why you must leave. You deserve a much better man than me."

"I _deserve_ to be able to make my own decisions. And I have decided to stay here with you."

Jack sighed. "I'll not argue with you any longer. You are free to do as you please, my dear. Take your station."

She grinned. "Thank you, Jack!" she said, passing him.

"One more thing," he said, reaching out and grabbing her hand. He pulled her to him and kissed her passionately, evoking some cries of surprise from the crew. He stayed close to her ear and whispered. "Will I see you in my cabin at 1200 hours?"

"Aye, Captain."

"Very well, then," he said, releasing her and winking. "Gentlemen, we have our heading! Prepare to set sail!"

And so Jack and Camille had another night of amazing sex. The End.


	54. Auguries of Innocence

A/n: I know that we're not supposed to post poetry, but whatever. Here's the poem that the story is based on, and it's one of my favorites.

Auguries of Innocence

By William Blake

To see a world in a grain of sand  
And a heaven in a wild flower,  
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand  
And eternity in an hour.  
A robin redbreast in a cage  
Puts all heaven in a rage.  
A dove-house filled with doves and pigeons  
Shudders hell through all its regions.  
A dog starved at his master's gate  
Predicts the ruin of the state.  
A horse misused upon the road  
Calls to heaven for human blood.  
Each outcry of the hunted hare  
A fibre from the brain does tear.  
A skylark wounded in the wing,  
A cherubim does cease to sing.  
The game-cock clipped and armed for fight  
Does the rising sun affright.  
Every wolf's and lion's howl  
Raises from hell a human soul.  
The wild deer wandering here and there  
Keeps the human soul from care.  
The lamb misused breeds public strife,  
And yet forgives the butcher's knife.  
The bat that flits at close of eve  
Has left the brain that won't believe.  
The owl that calls upon the night  
Speaks the unbeliever's fright.  
He who shall hurt the little wren  
Shall never be beloved by men.  
He who the ox to wrath has moved  
Shall never be by woman loved.  
The wanton boy that kills the fly  
Shall feel the spider's enmity.  
He who torments the chafer's sprite  
Weaves a bower in endless night.  
The caterpillar on the leaf  
Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.  
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,  
For the Last Judgment draweth nigh.  
He who shall train the horse to war  
Shall never pass the polar bar.  
The beggar's dog and widow's cat,  
Feed them, and thou wilt grow fat.  
The gnat that sings his summer's song  
Poison gets from Slander's tongue.  
The poison of the snake and newt  
Is the sweat of Envy's foot.  
The poison of the honey-bee  
Is the artist's jealousy.  
The prince's robes and beggar's rags  
Are toadstools on the miser's bags.  
A truth that's told with bad intent  
Beats all the lies you can invent.  
It is right it should be so:  
Man was made for joy and woe;  
And when this we rightly know  
Through the world we safely go.  
Joy and woe are woven fine,  
A clothing for the soul divine.  
Under every grief and pine  
Runs a joy with silken twine.  
The babe is more than swaddling bands,  
Throughout all these human lands;  
Tools were made and born were hands,  
Every farmer understands.  
Every tear from every eye  
Becomes a babe in eternity;  
This is caught by females bright  
And returned to its own delight.  
The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar  
Are waves that beat on heaven's shore.  
The babe that weeps the rod beneath  
Writes Revenge! in realms of death.  
The beggar's rags fluttering in air  
Does to rags the heavens tear.  
The soldier armed with sword and gun  
Palsied strikes the summer's sun.  
The poor man's farthing is worth more  
Than all the gold on Afric's shore.  
One mite wrung from the labourer's hands  
Shall buy and sell the miser's lands,  
Or if protected from on high  
Does that whole nation sell and buy.  
He who mocks the infant's faith  
Shall be mocked in age and death.  
He who shall teach the child to doubt  
The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.  
He who respects the infant's faith  
Triumphs over hell and death.  
The child's toys and the old man's reasons  
Are the fruits of the two seasons.  
The questioner who sits so sly  
Shall never know how to reply.  
He who replies to words of doubt  
Doth put the light of knowledge out.  
The strongest poison ever known  
Came from Caesar's laurel crown.  
Nought can deform the human race  
Like to the armour's iron brace.  
When gold and gems adorn the plough  
To peaceful arts shall Envy bow.  
A riddle or the cricket's cry  
Is to doubt a fit reply.  
The emmet's inch and eagle's mile  
Make lame philosophy to smile.  
He who doubts from what he sees  
Will ne'er believe, do what you please.  
If the sun and moon should doubt,  
They'd immediately go out.  
To be in a passion you good may do,  
But no good if a passion is in you.  
The whore and gambler, by the state  
Licensed, build that nation's fate.  
The harlot's cry from street to street  
Shall weave old England's winding sheet.  
The winner's shout, the loser's curse,  
Dance before dead England's hearse.  
Every night and every morn  
Some to misery are born.  
Every morn and every night  
Some are born to sweet delight.  
Some are born to sweet delight,  
Some are born to endless night.  
We are led to believe a lie  
When we see not through the eye  
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,  
When the soul slept in beams of light.  
God appears, and God is light  
To those poor souls who dwell in night,  
But does a human form display  
To those who dwell in realms of day.


End file.
